Through the Fade, Darkly
by Twofaced Cesario
Summary: Self-Insert. Plagued by dreams of a game, a girl is taken from her world to Thedas. She must find a way home while working with the Champion on his rise to power against the struggles that await. No pairings yet, T for now. spoilers for DA2
1. Illusions of Dreamland

Been a while since I tried a hand at a fanfiction, since my old laptop died; Lets see how long it'll take for me to lose interest, ne?

Inspired by Mass Vexations and other good self-inserts.

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The soft mutter of conversation had filled the train; some talking on their phones, others to each other. Many were silent, but the void of silence was still filled by voices and the rattling of the train, which was packed, but not to the brim. At the tail end of rush hour, there were plenty of people who either willingly waited or had to catch up at work. At the front of the train, there were only five standing. A couple, who were gossiping happily, a business man jabbering away on his phone, a trendy teenager texting away on a fancy device fresh off the market, and a less trendy one reading. This girl's ears were blocked by a music device, but the mythology in her hands was what kept most of her attention.

As the music changed from something older than her to a foreign song from a video game, her attention was briefly diverted from the excerpt from the gods to mortal world around her, the confined space currently passing through a tunnel. A quick swallow removed the uncomfortable feeling in her ears and soon, the gods of sleep had her attention. And while Morpheus, Phobetor, and Phantasos were not something the girl would usually read about, but required for some project.

"_Now departing from *** station. Next stop is ***. Please take all your personal belongings with you when departing the train._" Several seats were emptied, and only three were left standing, the business man, the texting teen and the girl. Three more stops and she'd be on the bus home. A good a time as any to stop her studies. The book disappeared in her bag and her thoughts instead focussed on the past few days. She knew she was behind on the project, but only because a game she enjoyed came out recently. Only when she beat it for the third time the night prior did she pay attention to the neglected school work. _Well, it's not like I skip school to play games, like my brother. _At that thought, an amused smile formed on her face. Still, she needed the course to get into the university program she wanted, and failing the project would put a dent in her plans.

The song changed again, to another foreign song made from a program. Now she contemplated the effect of the game on her. While she was not entirely consumed in her gaming, her school work has indeed suffered recently and she had avoided social gatherings more than usual. What worried her the most were the dreams. Dreams that trapped her in her sleep; though she didn't notice it at first. It was just a bit harder to get up every day, so she'd sleep earlier. While it did little to help, the girl began to remember bits and pieces of the dreams, which would usually be forgotten an hour after waking. These bits stuck to her mind, glued to her eyelids so vivid and real.

_Cliffs which reach to the sky surround the narrow channel with unnerving statues in the distance. A courtyard with an oppressive air, surrounded by statues of the tortured, leading to a tall and imposing building, which almost looks like an asylum for the damned. _She rubbed her forehead to banish the images as she leaned against the wall that separated the passengers from the driver. Only a few days ago, these images would pop up in her mind, but she could push them out of her mind. Unusually, the images continued to flash in front of her eyes. _The dark underground town, where people milled about or decided to fight for a scrap of food or just for a handful of coin. _Maybe she should read on more about the gods. Particularly the god of nightmares. Perhaps he had something against her._ The humid and rancid sewer, with robed beings gathered._ _Endlessly shifting surroundings, with a blackened city floating in the distance, began to create an empty valley in front of her. _Was she dreaming again? She couldn't even open her eyes._ A doorway grows in front of her, its intricate but empty black frame both welcoming and foreboding. The air swirled in it, almost in a dark red gas._

The train had abruptly stopped and people began to scream. _A hand reached out of the doorway, the wrist slit and blood splattering the robe sleeve. _A large transport truck slammed into the side of the train, close to the front, shattering the windows and twisting the metal. _It grasped around, as if trying to search with touch._ The ones standing were sent flying, and the ones sitting fell out of their seats. _The hand found its way to the girl's neck._ The train was sent off the tracks from the impact, the front car twisting to its side. _She struggled, grabbing onto the bleeding wrist, trying to pull it away. _ Something snapped behind the train car; the support, and it fell fully to its side. _Recognizing it has found a prize, the bloodstained hand began to pull. _Gravity took its task, and the people fell, many hitting the poles meant for support. _She tried to resist, but the hand yanked her through the doorway. _The glass shattered as the train came to a rest but the screams continued.

"We are reporting to you live from the scene, where a deadly crash has taken place twenty minutes ago in the Southwest. A truck collided with a southbound train, causing one of the carts to turn on its side. Six people have been killed in the crash and many more are injured. Police and EMS are on the scene, with ambulances sending people to hospitals as fast as they can. It is estimated that at least one hundred people were on the train, with about forty-five in the front car, which was the one most damaged."

In the crashed car of the train, there were still several people still trapped inside. Some were nursing their broken limbs as best as they could. The car was silent except for the sirens outside and the cries of the injured. The void of silence was heavy with pain and death. At the front of the car two had collapsed. The business man was still, bleeding from the head and the trendy teenager was trying to pull a metal pole out of her leg without causing her too much pain. The girl was gone.

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The sewers under Darktown were humid with waste, and one could not walk three paces without stepping in shit, and the depth was so that most thugs wouldn't even venture here. Despite its disgusting state, this section of the sewers suited their purposes. It was haven from the Templars, and allowed this band of five blood mages to congregate in secrecy. This particular spot was dryer than most of the other sections, something they would require for this ritual, for blood would not mix well with waste.

"The slightest error will have terrible results." The evident leader had stated as he looked over the spell. Another maleficar measured out alchemical ingredients. "If anyone screws up, I'll throw you to the Templars." The threat was enough for them to work harder.

"We shall throw the Chantry down!" he continued as a summoning circle was drawn. "We shall summon an army of demons and let them loose on the Templars! They shall regret the fact that they oppress us mages!" One of the mages pushed forth a man, dressed in none but his smallclothes. The templar swore at them and struggled with his bonds. The leader of the group gathered magical energy as he plunged a dagger in the back of the man's neck. As blood and life drained from the prisoner to mix with the magic, the other four tore the hole through the Veil. The leader slashed at his wrist with a second blade, allowing the blood to contribute to the ritual, with the other following suit. "Come to us, demons of the Fade!" he bellowed as he reached into the tear, too eager to just let something come out itself.

The girl tumbled out, landing on her hands and face, her bag landing on her rear "Ow." The mages watched her slowly get up, confused and astonished. She rubbed at her nose and scrunched her eyes, not noticing the mages whispering to each other. Her eyes opened to see a dead man on the ground and her voice left her. She looks from the corpse to the bloodied mages with blank mind. They start on her, both curious how she tumbled out of the Fade and angry that she ruined their ritual. But all she saw were bloodied armed men reaching for her. Panicked, she ran. She collided into two mages, who didn't expect her to run at them. Using her elbows as clubs, she knocked over another who was preparing a spell. Reflexively, she swung her bag at the fourth's stomach, the heavy books inside causing it to be a makeshift weapon. Her way clear, she ran through the sewers as fast as she could as the mages yelled behind her.

_Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck _Was what went through her mind as she ran away. _Why am I not waking up? _She glanced behind her, hoping that none of the murderers followed her. While she learned she wasn't being followed, the action resulted in her crashing into someone. "Ow, Fuck!" She yelped as she fell to the ground. Her face stung from the man's armour and she looked up to see what she ran into.

He was a tall man with black hair, his chin covered in a shaggy beard and his nose had a smear. The girl's jaw nearly fell open as she stared at the default Garrett Hawke. Behind him was a dwarf with blond hair and plenty of jewellery, a woman with short black hair and a staff on her back, and a redhaired woman garbed in heavy armour.

"If you just tried to pick my pocket, you did a very bad job on it." The man had an amused look on his face, but the way he stood, almost reaching for the broadsword on his back made the girl cower.

"Um…dead guy, stabby people, chasing me" she stammered as she looked back behind her. They still haven't followed her, so she took a few moments before she spoke again. Hawke raised an eyebrow at her. "I-I dunno what happened, but there were some…guys with knives. They killed a guy and they tried to grab me or something."

"Or something?"

"Shut up, I dunno. They had knives and long sticks and wore dresses and-" A snicker came from the dwarf _Varric _The girl reminded herself.

"Blood mages" Aveline stated as she eyed the path the girl had come from.

"Well, what luck! We just so happen to be in the market for some blood mages! Did any of them use some sort of seduction magic on you?" Hawke helped the girl up, as she looked confused at him.

"Uh, no, I was too busy running to let them, I think." She looked back again as she rubbed her cheek. Running headlong into armour really hurts, even in a dream.

"Ah, damn. Well, I hope you can lead us to them, unless you're afraid they'll go all 'stabby' again."

"Don't mock me" she grumbled, but she lead the way while trying to wake herself up. These dreams were beginning to tire her.

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"Well, that was utterly disappointing." Hawke stated as he nudged the corpse on the ground with his boot. The girl was studying the papers and books hidden in a corner, trying to avoid looking at the blood and gore. The mages were gone, leaving much behind in their haste "You sure you didn't do this and lie about it?"

"Like I can draw clean circle and these straight lines…" She mumbled, but spoke louder. "No, they were here. I think there were four or five of them." She reached for the papers on the ground, intent of sifting her way through them. Bethany looked at the air around the circle warily.

"The Veil is weaker here, like someone hastily patched it." Bethany stated as she studied the circle drawn on the ground. Aveline left to scout the area and Varric had knelt beside the girl.

"Ah… a meeting place in Hightown." Varric smiled as he held up a paper and an amulet. He stepped over to Hawke, holding out the items "Looks like these guys are fancy mages, but not the guys we're looking for." The girl picked up a sheet full of complex formulae, studying it for a moment before tossing it aside as she mumbled.

Hawke looked over the paper Varric held as he twirled the amulet around his finger. "Well, we can't let a bunch of dangerous madmen run around. Think of how much competition they'll give to the Sharps." He shifted his eyes to look at the girl, who was trying to avoid staring at the blood on the ground. A futile task, but there it was. "So how did you get involved? I get the whole 'stabby' but not much else."

"I…" She frowned, trying to remember what happened before she fell asleep. _Can one really recall the beginning of a dream?_ Shaking her head, she tried to focus. She was on a train, reading and listening to music. Then…she stopped reading? "I don't…know. I just…no. I don't get it." She rubbed her eyes under her glasses.

"Well, that was…informative." Hawke shrugged his shoulders as he looked at Bethany and Varric.

"Shut up. I just don't know. One minute I was heading home…I guess I fell asleep?" The girl shot a glare at Hawke.

"Probably drugged. Maybe they dragged her here for their ritual?" Varric studied the girl, noting her strange clothes and hair. She didn't notice.

"Next thing I know, some guys in dresses were standing around with daggers looking at me. I just ran." She glanced at the corpse on the ground, trying to be surprised at the detail her dream had. She held back a choke of disgust. As Hawke began to talk with his companions, she mumbled "Damn…this is one lucid dream… I hope I wake up soon."

"Well then it's settled. We'll get Keran and then we'll investigate this." Hawke turned to the girl. "I suggest you head on home then. I-"

"Like hell. If they did have something to do with me being here, I want some answers." She crossed her arms and tried her best to look angrily at him. _Whatever. I'll just play along until I wake up, and then go about my daily life. _"I escaped them, so I'm not completely useless."

"Fighting blood mages is tough. And you don't even have a weapon." Aveline had walked in to hear the girl's words. "We can take care of it and report back to you."

"If it were you in this situation, would you accept that outcome, lady?" The girl's eyebrow raised.

"A fair point, but you still lack a weapon. And-" The warrior grimaced as the girl reached for the dagger stuck into the corpse, trying to keep back her own disgusted look. _Only in a dream…_

"And that problem is solved…" She noticed their strange looks and tried to wave it off. "I…like the irony of killing them with their own weapons?" She tried to wipe it clean with some of the papers.

"Okay…not disturbing at all." Hawke stated slowly before looking at the girl. "Well then…I guess we'll be off…Serah…"

The girl thought for a few seconds before she replied. "Phobe. Phobetor." _The god of nightmares; He's probably the bastard who got me in this mess._ "Nice to meet you, Ser Hawke. Now let's go deal with some blood mages."

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Now that Phobe was in a group, she felt a bit better. The dream wasn't as hectic, and it was almost as she was playing the game again. Hawke and Varric were swapping witty remarks about their trip, with Bethany and Aveline watching their surroundings. She tried to do the same, but keeping her dagger close to her hand. She had no sheathe for it and it would no doubt ruin her pockets with either its edge or blood, so she just kept it held in her stronger hand, with the blade pressed against her arm.

Darktown looked much like it did in the game, but that medium couldn't properly show how it was. The shadows reached high, and the stench in the air only improved slightly from the sewers, though it was no fresher. There were refugees mulling about, with nowhere to go and nothing to do. Some were lamenting their situation while others accepted it grimly. A few managed to ply a trade here, but there were many more thugs, who would jeer at their passing group, than traders. The infrastructure allowed for some view on the outside, but it was obscured with fog and toxic gases. Phobe bit her lip at the sights, which reminded her of the situations she would only read about in the news or on the internet.

At last, they arrived at the den. A ladder descended into the darkness of the sewers below, making her wonder what the point was in coming up. "What is with these guys and sewers?" she grumbled, but she nonetheless followed the others down into the dark.

"A whole sanctuary of blood mages…I hope we can stand against them…" Bethany glanced to her brother, who patted her gently on the shoulder, as if to comfort her.

The den looked as she expected it. Down a brief flight of stairs would be some abominations and demons, then some undead and mages until they reached the end. Hawke and Aveline wailed on them from the front lines, while Bethany and Varric peppered the enemies with their respective projectiles. They were too absorbed in their fighting to notice Phobe just attacking the ones that came near. _Since Aveline and Hawke are taking the aggro though…_ At the very least, Phobe was fighting an abomination.

Perhaps the mage it possessed was out of shape, or the demon wasn't used to the body, but the abomination moved slowly and swung unsurely. While the girl wasn't a born fighter, she was short and quick enough to dodge most of its unwieldy attacks, and the ones she didn't felt more like a gentle thump. With the dagger in her left hand, she stabbed hard in the first vulnerable spot she saw. It was only when she was trying to pull the dagger out did she remember something. A teacher once told her that when stabbed, the body clenches around the wound as a defensive mechanism, making the weapon hard to pull out. As she dodged another hit, she wretched hard at the blade. "Out, damn you!" the girl growled out. She brought her foot up and kicked the abomination hard, finally yanking the blade out. As the possessed being staggered, she reared back for another blow, only for an arrow to embed itself in the creature's forehead.

"Not the best fighter, huh?" the dwarf chuckled as he reloaded his crossbow.

"Shut up, I don't go around actively trying to stab people." Phobe stated, trying hard not to frown.

"Which I suppose we should all be thankful for" Varric laughed as he stowed Bianca away.

The next few waves were dealt with quickly, in the same manner, though Phobe improved slightly in her fighting. Dodging was easier, and she began to get used to attacking. Hawke and the others finished the enemies off, but she tried her best.

One thing Phobe noticed though, was that the place was longer than she remembered. They were probably down there for around an hour or two now, though there was no real way to tell time between the battles and the fact they were underground (While Phobe did have her music device on her, she didn't dare risk it). She also noticed that the party had more banter than in-game. Aveline would try to prod Varric for information on Kirkwall's underbelly, though he would just brush it off, and Hawke fussed quite a bit over Bethany. _Then again, there wasn't that much banter that involves Hawke in the game…_ Phobe tried to stay in the back to discreetly get used to wielding a dagger. Maybe after this, she can get a short sword or- Or she would wake up. _Dammit. This dream is taking far, far too long. I'd better wake up soon or I'll miss school or something. And my math teacher is a tota-_

Her thoughts were interrupted when they came across a man, curled up and suspended in the air by white wisps. As she blinked twice, Hawke went to look carefully at him. He seemed grimly determined, but before he could say anything they were approached.

"How wonderful, more vessels for our experiments. " A woman, with the most gaudy make-up and ridiculous clothes had walked over, with three mages in tow. She had a sadistic smile on her face, and the way she greeted them was much like a fat spider with a meal. It would've been unnerving if Phobe wasn't busy wondering if her make-up was done in the dark by Joker.

Hawke, however, was unphased. He walked towards her and glared "Where is Keran?" He asked, as if preparing to fight. His party prepared their weapons.

"Perhaps one of the demons might find you suitable." She continued, holding her arms up with a smile.

"I don't think she can hear you, Hawke. Maybe too many voices in her head." Phobe mumbled quietly.

"I am not some hopeless whelp who ran crying to a demon; I sought them out and embraced them!" The woman growled, glaring at Phobe, who just rolled her eyes.

Hawke regained her attention. "Turn yourselves in. If you do, the templars might spare your life." The comment just got a bark-like laugh in response.

"The templars! We'll destroy their entire pathetic order! If a few more fall to demons, we will seed chaos in their ranks! How many abominations can they discover among their own before the knight-commander goes crazy?" She laughed more looking up as if with hope.

"Okay…It's clear that she's not going to listen to reason…Can we just kick her ass now and save this discussion? It's giving me a headache." Phobe sighed in irritation. The woman looked at her and began to laugh again.

"Kill the vessels only if you must!" She took her staff off her back as Varric began to fire. Hawke, Phobe and Aveline rushed forward; Hawke ran at the abomination that appeared, and Aveline tried to break the ranks of the mages. As the leader sealed herself in a protective bubble, Bethany shot a fireball at the group, reaching it before Aveline. The unprotected mages staggered from the blast, giving the warrior an easy strike, which caught the right most in the chest. He fell easily. Phobe slipped around the mages and stabbed her dagger at the neck of the one in the back, tearing one of the veins and his throat. His hand clasped at the wound as he fell. A few shots from Varric dropped the last. Two more abominations came, and Aveline rushed at one. The one that appeared behind Varric and Bethany got their attention, but the mage, now out of her protective bubble, directed a spell at Phobe.

The girl suddenly convulsed in pain, a strangled gasp escaping her. She felt as though her veins burned her to the point where she couldn't even scream in pain. Her dagger fell to the ground and she soon followed when her legs couldn't support her, making only the slightest twitches. White spots appeared before her eyes as her mind tried to process the pain, but still she couldn't scream. It only stopped when Hawke cut down the mage, and even then, she needed a few minutes before she could stand.

"Are you alright?" Bethany knelt down beside her, casting a healing spell to try and alleviate the pain, but Phobe didn't notice her, nor the fact that the battle was over.

_That…hurt like a bitch! Why didn't I wake up? This…_The girl looked at the bloodied dagger beside her, her eyes widening. _This is not a dream, is it? That's why it's taking so long...why I'm lucid, why…_

"Fuck my life…" Phobe stood, grabbing her dagger again. She suddenly felt sick, from both the pain and her realization. She mumbled out a thanks as she took a place behind Hawke, who was now talking with Keran. _If this isn't a dream… Then I've really been fighting. I really pulled a dagger out of a corpse, I've really just killed a bunch of people. I-I _She looked at the corpses of the mages, biting her lips.

This stayed in her mind even as they exited Darktown to the Gallows.

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I'll cut it off here. Sorry if it's bad due to my lack of fanfic-writing. Let me know how I did. I can always use constructive criticism.


	2. Lies make it better

I forgot to do a disclaimer. I own nothing.

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Despite her preoccupied mind, the sight of the Gallows struck awe and fear into Phobe. The imposing building, more intimidating with the setting sun almost disappearing behind it, was made to strike fear into slaves. Perhaps unintentionally, it seemed to serve the same purpose for any visitor and (more intentionally) the mages of Kirkwall. The towering statues of tortured slaves, sobbing into their hands, and the sharpened, spiked edges of raised platforms and walls made her stomach turn in fear; what was the point of keeping them? To intimidate anyone who came near?

_Yes, obviously; stupid to think otherwise_. She thought to herself as she looked around the mostly-empty courtyard. The yard was lined with templars, both recruits and the higher ranked. The man they rescued was talking with another armoured man, a woman standing near them. Hawke approached them and as he spoke, Phobe stayed in the back of the group, which allowed her to keep looking around. For a place meant to keep mages, there were very few of the charges around, she thought as her eyes slowly swept the yard. Only a handful of the robed individuals milled about, most of them with a symbol burned onto their foreheads. _Tranquils, right?_ The girl bit her lip at the sight, pondering how someone could do that to a fellow being. The tranquils moved with purpose or perhaps with fear, never staying in one place to chat, but shuffling swiftly to their destinations. The few normal mages were escorted by templars, but all in the yard were watched like prey. One of the templars had even turned his (or her) eyes to Bethany. Unconsciously, Phobe shifted to the side in an attempt to block the templar's sight from the apostate. Fortunately, the conversation had ended before the armoured being could make a move, and Hawke indicated for them to leave.

The walk back to Lowtown was more subdued than when they moved to the Gallows, with the sun mostly hidden by the buildings now. Only a few minutes before the streets were enveloped in darkness, with daggers prowling each shadow. Hawke kept looking to his sister with worry etched on his face until the group finally exited the sight and reach of the templars. He turned to the group, stopping in his motions and spoke with an aged smile.

"I think today went well. Let's save whatever misadventure awaits us for tomorrow." Hawke stated, shifting his look to Phobe. "I'm sure that your mages will be waiting for us until then."

The girl took a moment to think, before slowly speaking, her mind still working. "They probably botched whatever ritual they were doing. They may wait a while before regrouping, since I ran…Chances are they expected me to bring templars." She scratched the back of her head as she pondered. "It might be alright to wait for tomorrow and even if it wasn't…" She looked to the dwarf, holding out her hand for the scrap they found. Varric handed it to her and she studied the address for a moment. "…Maybe it's their home base. At the very least we can stake it out, and if it isn't, we'll most likely find more clues as to where they are."

"Lovely! So I'll just take Bethy and go home." Hawke clapped as he grinned at his sister, who simply watched him with a studious but stern look on her face. His smile faltered and he let out a cough, looking sheepishly at the rest of the group "I trust you all know your ways home."

Aveline nodded twice as if in understanding. As she spoke, Phobe got the impression that the guard had a warm smile in her voice "Of course, Hawke. Shall we meet you at Gamlen's an hour after dawn?"

Varric let out a chuckle as he waved off the warrior's remark. "In that stuffy place? I'd rather stay at the Hanged Man, thank you very much. Perhaps that is a better meeting place for our, ah, rather large group?"

"I don't know where you live, Hawke, so…I'll have to agree with Varric" Phobe shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant in her lie. Granted, she didn't know the exact location of Gamlen's house.

"Yea, yea, alright. The Hanged Man an hour…two hours after dawn." Hawke grinned as he led his sister away. Aveline and Varric looked to Phobe.

"You'll be alright, Lenses?" Varric asked. "Being kidnapped by blood mages didn't make you forget where you live, right?"

"I'll be fine, Varric. See you tomorrow." Phobe waved as she swiftly left. She disappeared around a corner before they could say anything.

Varric frowned. Something seemed off. With a farewell to Aveline, he headed to The Hanged Man, his mind occupied.

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Phobe knew she probably should've asked for help. Varric's network would be handy, and Aveline can extend a hand of protection. However, she was wary about asking. How could she explain her situation, especially since she didn't know much about it? And even then, she can't just say that she has nowhere to go; they were already going to help her with the mages, and she couldn't ask too much from the group, being as unacquainted as she is to them.

Or could she? Hawke and his friends were nice people. If she asked for a place to stay for just one…no, she couldn't impose. Especially given Hawke's situation. His home was cramped with just his family, and he had to keep an eye on Gamlen. Aveline needed to keep an eye on corruption in the guard, plus a civilian in a guard's barracks wouldn't make sense, and Varric has the Deep Roads and his brother's stubborn nature to worry about. Phobe could at the very least find a way to live on her own.

She walked quickly, pondering on where she could at least spend the night. She shifted the bag on her back as she thought. _Darktown is out; I'm likely to get mugged in my sleep. Lowtown maybe, if I can find an unoccupied corner somewhere… but what about…_

The paper crumpled in her hand as she climbed the stairs to Hightown. If she remembered correctly, there was a hidden corridor where a chest appears sometime in the game; It should be empty at this time, and she might be able to rest there for the night. The girl moved swiftly through the darkened streets, trying to avoid areas where the Guardsmen Pretenders were.

When she arrived at her destination, she was relieved to see that her memory was correct. While there was a door at the very end of the corridor with a darkened lantern near it, the middle of the corridor was dark enough for her to at least sleep there without being noticed from either side. She set her bag down on the ground as a makeshift pillow and lay down, setting her glasses in its case. As she tried to sleep, she was surprised at how silent the world was around her.

Her neighbours would throw a party every chance they got and she could always hear some form of pounding bass from the house beside hers. Add to that her brothers always playing late into the night or the pets of the neighbourhood barking into the night, there was always noise slipping into her room whenever she tried to sleep. But here, there was only silence… It was dark too; back home, the lights of the neighbourhood would always leak into her windows, even when she pulled her blinds closed, and the light of her parents' room was usually visible under her door. There were no artificial lights, nothing but the stars and moon in this world, though she couldn't see them under the roof anyways.

She curled up on the dusty ground, her eyes closed as she began to think about the home she had unwillingly left behind. She was just heading home when she was brought here; was her family worried? How were they? Are they looking for her, calling friends to see if she was there? She had never left the house without her family knowing, and her parents were worrywarts who never even let her ride the train by herself. Now she was stuck (temporarily, she hoped) in an unknown world where she just murdered some people and desecrated a corpse. She felt a large stab of guilt, but holding onto the paper eased it.

She'd be back home before she knew it, with this period of insanity done with soon. She wouldn't worry her parents, be killing people, or be stuck in some crazy world with magic, chantries, and demons lurking around. With those thoughts rampaging through her head, she drifted to Morpheus' realm from the silent and dark world.

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Disappearances in Kirkwall went largely unnoticed. Either people were killed, taken by the templars or slavers, or met some other grisly fate. This made tracking the disappearance of one person difficult, but usually not impossible. Trying to find information on Phobe, however, was like trying to find the Black City in Thedas. There was nothing on the girl, from what she did for a living to where she came from. Varric was tempted to think that she was a Ferelden Refugee, but the way she was disproved it. From the way she was dressed (with clothes that were strange, especially on a woman) to the way she acted, didn't seem like any culture he had seen so far, and the eyeglasses she wore were things usually only seen in higher society, where people could afford such things, or the Circle. However, she clearly wasn't a mage, and nothing from his contacts in Hightown came up about her.

The merchant prince took a drink from his glass, thinking at the lack of information he had. It was as if the girl had literally appeared out of nowhere, not the common version that occurs in Kirkwall, where at least one person would have information on entrances, but the literal phased into existence by the Maker sort.

But while information on Lenses was non-existent, the same could not be said about the mages she sought.

Kirkwall was full of Maleificar, but the groups of them were rather easy to find information on, provided one knew the right people, which Varric obviously did. There are always Blood Mages willing to summon demons into this world, and this group was no different. Their leader was an elf with the assumed name Malacath, who saw himself as, surprise surprise, a revolutionary who would bring down the circle. Everything he did was rather by the book of blood magic and only his charisma allowed him to gather and lead a group of six. The group was only unique in the fact that they met near the Hightown Markets, a hotspot for templars.

Really, Varric couldn't see how they eluded the templars this long, but he supposed that the truth will come out, for both them and Lenses, tomorrow.

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Sleeping on the ground and a bag of books wasn't comfortable and her sleep was light enough that the first rays of day woke her, but Phobe was up within a few minutes, pants dusted and bag on her back. She stretched as she began to walk towards Lowtown, watching the world around her. The guards were walking briskly, as if on their way to their posts, as the merchants prepared their shops for the day. There were very few nobles out at dawn's light, but many servants, mostly elves, heading out for their errands and chores. The streets were mostly empty, with no children running around. Despite her lack of sleep, her mind was full of purpose, and she kept a firm grip on the paper in her pocket. She'd go find the mages who brought her here, beat them senseless until they brought her back, and in no time, she'll be sitting at home explaining to her parents she hung out at a friend's house for the night.

Not the best plan, since she'd most likely have to extract information without Hawke overhearing. She really didn't want to explain to them that she wasn't from around Thedas without sounding like some demon from the Fade. How would that kind of conversation go? '_Hi, I forgot to tell you yesterday that I'm from a totally different world and- now don't look at me like that, I'm no demon. You see, I-_'There were guards on the steps down to Lowtown. Several were leering at her, so she kept her pace brisk, and she was soon lost among the crowds of Lowtown. She didn't let her mind wander anymore. Phobe kept her eyes out for pickpockets and her hands on her belongings, remembering something said in the game. Already, merchants were shouting their wares, eager to get the morning crowd near their stalls, though the people were either mulling about, not caring, or on their way to whatever job they managed to have. The girl could easily weave through the groups of people, looser than the halls at school. At least here, there was room to walk, and before long, she saw the sign of the Hanged Man.

Surprisingly, the bar was rather full this time of the morning. Every table was full and people were chatting among themselves and a scantily clad woman was milling at the bar, ignoring someone serenading her. There was a waitress stepping around the tables, getting orders and the occasional grope from the patrons and Varric was waving down to her from the bal- oh... Phobe walked as quickly as she could through the crowd, her breath held against the scent of stale ale and sweat. She climbed the stairs, already able to see Hawke sitting at a large rectangular table with Bethany, Varric, and two others.

"Ah, good of you to join us, Phobe." The warrior greeted warmly as the girl stepped into the room. "Isabela is just getting a drink, and we're waiting on Aveline and Fenris, so feel free to eat something while we wait." He gestured to at the table in front of him, and she sat down beside an empty seat as she surveyed the seating. Across from her, was a chipper woman with tattoos on her face who Bethany was chatting with, and beside Varric, who sat around the corner from Hawke, was a solemn looking blond man who was staring at his plate. "This is Merril." Hawke stated as he pointed at Bethany's friend before gesturing to the blond "and this is Anders." Phobe waved slightly to the two as they were introduced. Merril smiled happily as she returned the greeting, but Anders just nodded once. "Don't mind Anders, he's just tired." The warrior added as he handed the girl a small plate of fruit and hash. Just as she began to nibble quietly at the food, the scantily clad woman from the bar walked in, carrying a flagon in her hand. This woman plopped down between Anders and Phobe as she took a long draught from her mug. "Ah, balls, I wish there was more than this watered down shit." She stated as she eyed Varric with annoyance, as if it was his fault.

"What can I do about?" he chuckled as he lay back in his chair, "Shipments of ale usually come in around after noon." Isabela just grumbled into her drink as she looked around the table. Her eyes stopped at Phobe.

"Aw, Hawke, you picked up another girl on your business?" She asked as she set her alcohol down, a devilish smile on her face. Phobe tried to keep her eyes on her food. "This is why I need to travel with you more: I'm always meeting new people after everyone else."

"Anders and Merril just met her, and you were busy at the bar." Hawke quipped, but he was ignored.

"So, I'm Isabela, welcome to our little group of apostates, fugitives, murderers, and thieves." The pirate greeted. "What's your name?"

"Phobe." She stated unfazed by Isabela, as she continued to eat. "Although I'm probably not going to stay in the group, once Hawke deals with...something" She looked up at the warrior, over her glasses. "I hope we can get it done in between whatever you have planned, Serah."

"We'll head there after we're all gathered. I might have to go get Fenris, though…" Hawke stated.

"It's no real rush, Hawke, you don't have to worry. I doubt they'll be moving around for a while." Phobe tried a smile, but it came out pained. "Of course, the less people we bring the better. We don't want to make them wary of being followed." The girl added as she finished off her fruit. Hawke shook his head.

"No; We got caught yesterday with blood mages, and I'd rather have more support. Bethany's not that good at healing, so we'll be taking Anders too. Varric is coming, of course, he can pick locks better than I can hope to, and I want extra hands in case we get surrounded again. If I can, I'll bring everyone."

Phobe bit the inside of her mouth trying to stop a frown. "With so many people though, we might alert them. They'll be expecting templars and I don't want to trip any defences." _And I don't want anyone to hear my interrogation. Mostly that._

"All the more reason we need to have more people." Hawke stated as Aveline walked in with white haired man. He waved to the new arrivals as they sat down in the last chairs. "Morning Aveline. I trust that the early exercises went well?"

"As well as you can expect from a bunch of under trained knights. Jeven didn't train most of them well, so we have to start from ground up." The woman spoke in a clipped tone that spoke irritation. "What were you guys talking about?"

"Phobe is worried about bringing a lot of people to the blood mage den. By the way, that's Fenris and you already know Aveline" Hawke stated as he handed food to his friends. The man accepted but Aveline shook her head.

"I just don't want to alert them to our presence once we arrive. If we have the element of surprise, we might have a bit of an advantage." The girl began to pile the empty plates together as if that ended the conversation.

"I agree with Hawke. We don't know what might be waiting for us, and I'd rather not get the jump on us." Aveline stated. "And we can also split off and search for them safely if we need to."

"Knowing mages, they'd summon demons to do their fighting, and a small group would usually not do well against demons." Fenris added as he began to eat.

"Alright then, more for than against; sorry Phobe." Hawke grinned. "But we'll be able to protect ourselves against whatever they throw at us." The girl frowned, but nodded in resignation. Hawke turned to the rest of the group. "So, after we finish this, we'll go find some clues on the missing wife and finish that today. Tomorrow, we'll speak to Bartrand. By now, we should have enough to fund the expedition." As everyone finished whatever they were eating or drinking, Hawke spoke excitedly about the plans for the future.

The den was right beside the Hightown market, with the door on a balcony. The place seemed like a simple townhouse complex, though Phobe couldn't be sure. As a man standing nearby looked at Hawke, who assured him quickly that they were going to find his wife, the girl took her dagger in her hand, a look of unease coming over her face. She didn't know how everyone would fit in the place and have room to fight.

"Alright…Looks like Aveline, Bethany and Isabela will stand guard near the door. If anyone comes out, I trust you three to take care of them. The rest of us will move forward and find these mages. Fenris and I will stay in the front, Phobe and Varric, keep an eye out for Merril and Anders." Hawke ordered as Varric picked the lock on the door. As the mage, pirate and guard took their positions, the rest filed into the entrance hallway of the house.

As it turned out, the hall was spacious enough to fit the six comfortably. They stood on a deep burgundy carpet, and the walls themselves were painted a reddish brown. There was a small dark wood table with three lined tombs, supported by bookends that looked like miniature skulls. "Well, this place screams 'Blood Mages live here…' or maybe they're just morbid." Phobe mumbled as she tried to look around. "Let's keep our eyes open for traps or… I dunno, other things that might jump us." Varric looked at her strangely, but she just shrugged. They moved cautiously in the home, peering through doors before opening them. The first two rooms were empty of people, but with the same grim decorations of skulls, some weapons, and portraits of mages. The third-

"Dammit! They're around us!" Varric shouted as three shades and two rage demons crawled out of the floors around them. Fenris quickly activated his lyrium marking as Hawke let out a roar, rushing at the first demon he saw. Merril prepared a fireball as Anders began to swing his staff. Phobe slashed at a shade nearby as quickly as she could, trying to damage the demon. Flame exploded nearby as bolts, both magical and physical flew at the foes. Three of the enemies fell, but soon, more came to replace them. An abomination lumbered in, swinging at Fenris, who was dealing with the remaining rage demon. Varric shot at the creature as Hawke turned his attention from a fallen shade to a desire demon. Phobe felt a heavy blow from the shade she fought, which caused her to stumble back, biting her lip from the pain. Before it could attack again, it suddenly began to convulse from Merril's spell, and three more slashes in quick succession from Phobe's blade was enough to fell the demon. Phobe ran to assist Fenris as Merril shot at the desire demon. As quickly as it had started, the battle was over as both of the creatures were felled.

"Well…" Phobe stated as she rubbed the spot where the shade hit her, knowing it would bruise. "They know we're here." She studied the room they were in as Varric picked a locked chest nearby, relieving it of the small assortment of junk and money it had. She approached a pair of crossed short swords mounted on the wall, eyeing them carefully. As the others searched the room, Phobe pulled one of the blades off the wall and out of its scabbard. It was sharp and it seemed battle ready, with some obscure crest stamped onto the ricasso, close to the cross-guard. It reminded her of one of those chinese performance swords, only shorter and actually meant for battle. It would be better than her dagger, so she tied the scabbard to one of the belt loops of her cargo pants. She was tempted to take the sharpened letter opener but that would've just been foolish. Tucking her dagger into a safe spot in her bag, she began to look around for papers that would've helped their search for information.

"Any idea what these guys want?" Phobe asked as she sifted through some notes. "I mean aside from kidnapping random people."

"Probably they want to overthrow the Chantry, and thought blood magic might be the easiest path to do so. But all it does is show them the wrong side of magic" Anders stated grimly as he gripped his staff tightly.

"As if there is a right side…" Fenris snarled, though Anders didn't rise to the bait. Phobe looked through another stack of notes, mildly surprised that she could read it like crude and badly punctuated English. _Well, given that Thedas is supposed to be a Europe-like place…I guess common is just English? Or something? _She noted the circles drawn on the pages, which looked similar to that drawn on the ground of the sewer. _To tear a hole through the Veil which separates our world from the Fade is an un-natural action. One must do a similar un-natural action that goes against the will of the Maker to do such an act, such as blood magic, the action of taking power from blood rather than the Fade, though simply using base powers inherent in blood is not enough. Often, full blood sacrifices are required, depending on the magnitude of the demon one wishes to summon. A child is enough to bring forth a shade, but as many as five strong men can be needed to bring forth a Pride Demon. If one wishes to maximize on their sacrifices, It would be best not to attempt to summon more powerful demons. _

"Hey, Hawke, I think I found something." She stated as she stepped over to the warrior, her eyes focussed on the pages in front of her, "something about blood magic and the Fade." She handed the first page to him, which he passed on to Anders. As the mage and warrior spoke, she continued to sift through the pages. It was on the fifth page she noticed that the neat scrawl that the notes were in shifted to a slightly messier one.

_If a single blood sacrifice is required to bring forth a simple demon, what would be required to bring forth something more? (_Something was scrawled out here, and some circle drawings, with equations underneath_) What about reaching further from the fade? If one can bring forth the spirits of the dead, why can one not reach further? (_Here, there were a series of concentric circles, with the center one labeled the Fade_)_

_B's theory states that there is more than Thedas and the Fade, with a circular theory that centers around the Fade. Assuming that our plane of existence is relatively close to the Fade, it could be possible during a ritual to reach across the Fade to another plane, to the realm of the dead, or even the Gods, provided enough power is given. Alternatively, if one could direct their rituals away from the Fade, to say, hypothetical plane of existence A, then it could be possible to bring a corporeal being into Thedas, rather than a demon that requires a host. If this holds true, then, given enough sacrifices, one could bring forth a physical army to fight with, rather than giving themselves up to demons. Implantations of demons have not usually worked for our efforts. Perhaps it is time for more drastic measures._

A frown formed on Phobe's face as she read over the page. It seemed half research paper, half diary entry. Whoever wrote it seemed to believe B, whoever that may be. If this paper was to be believed, then it was either B or the person who wrote it that brought her here. Perhaps-

"Phobe, you find anything?" Hawke asked. Phobe quickly removed her finger, allowing the pages to obscure what she read. The girl looked up at the warrior, shaking her head.

"Just a bunch of random writings of a lunatic," she stated as she half-heartedly waved the pages around. "Throw down the Chantry this, Templars are evil that. Anything from that page I gave you?"

"It's just a basic overview of blood magic." Anders replied as he tore the page up in irritation. "We'll most likely find more information further in."

The group prepared to head to the next room, but Phobe stayed in the back of the group, so that she could tuck the pages into her bag. A small smile formed on her face. _With this information, I'll be able to head home._

She didn't notice Varric watching her as he leaned to speak with Hawke.

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So it takes me about a month to write each chapter, and I am just a bit worried about how quickly it seems to go. Ah well.


	3. Dreamland will Reveal

As it turned out, they didn't need to look around for much longer before they found their first three mages. After another room of demons, the maleficar were in the dining room, chatting among themselves as they ate their lunches. Two of them seemed shocked, and Phobe vaguely recognized them from the ritual. "Hawke, can we not kill at least one of them?" Phobe asked as the mages stood, scrambling to grab their staffs. "I need to ask them a few questions."

"Oh, we'll try our very best" the warrior mildly stated as he ran at the closest one with his broadsword. One stroke and the man staggered back with a deep gash in his arm. With Anders, Merrill and Varric supporting the back, Fenris rushed at the closest mage with his broadsword raised while Phobe ran around the small table to a mage who was preparing some spell. Bringing the blade up with her left arm, she slashed at the mage's back, trying to break his concentration. It worked, and the swell of magic vanished as he turned to face her. Quickly, she grabbed the hilt of her sword with both hands and brought the pommel down, aiming between the man's eyes. She managed to land a harsh blow, but she failed to notice the staff swinging at her. The force of the wooden conduit crashing into her ribs was enough to knock her back and she grit her teeth at the pain of having a few bones smashed. A quick spell from Anders, though, alleviated her injuries enough for her to move again.

Demons rose to aid their masters, one who had already fallen to Hawke's blade. Phobe kept her attention on the mage in front of her, who was preparing his spell again. This time, the girl swung up with her foot to kick the man, (If she recalled correctly, this move was called dirty fighting in the first game) who was interrupted again, a small gasp of pain escaping him. While he was bent over, she brought the bottom of her sword down again, smashing it against the back of his head. When he fell to the ground, she kicked him harshly in the side of the head to make sure he was down. With that finished, Phobe moved on to fight a shade that got too close.

"So I just realized how stupid that was." The girl stated once the battle was over, sheathing her sword as she looked at their surroundings. One of the mages had his heart ripped out, thanks to Fenris' lyrium abilities, and there were many demon remains littering the once pristine table and floor. "I ask you guys to make sure that they aren't dead, and then _**I **_proceed to cause this guy as much brain damage as I can." She nudged the blood mage she had fought earlier with her foot almost nervously. "…Please tell me I didn't kill him."

Anders knelt down beside the man, checking over him with magic before shaking his head. "No, he is alive, though most likely with a concussion. We can heal his injuries and wake him up." The mage prepared to work, but Hawke stopped him.

"If he wakes up, he might choose to thank us with another demon. Perhaps it is better if we tie him up?" With a cheeky grin, the warrior produced a rope from nowhere and tied the unconscious man up and against a chair. "So, Phobe, how do you want to do this?"

"I think I'll ask him the questions…With any luck I'll be able to get answers out of him. If I can't…" She looked at Varric, then Hawke. "I guess you guys can have a go. But I'd rather interrogate him first." _Alone_, the girl wanted to add, though she knew that it would be unlikely to occur.

A quick spell from Anders and the mage's injuries were healed. As he slowly came to, Phobe stepped forward, taking out the dagger in her bag. The girl took a deep breath before looking the confused maleficar in the eyes.

"Hi." She started as confidently as she could. "My name is Phobe. I'm the girl that ran away from you guys last night." Realization appeared in his eyes and Varric nudged her a bit. "So, here is how it will work. I'll ask you a question. You'll answer the question. You don't…" _Okay, just take something from Higurashi,_ she thought as she tried smiling. "I hammer a nail into one of your finger joints. Probably one ripped from the wall." Hawke looked at her, his eyebrows raised. She tried to shrug as nonchalantly as she could as she kept rambling. "I don't quite know if you have any idea, but those things tend to have…nasty shit sticking to them. I stick one of them **anywhere** and you're going to get an infection or something. Flesh eating disease or something…right at your joints. It's not pleasant. So you want to answer my questions" The girl leaned in, the dagger pointing in between his eyes as she glared at the man, "Got it?" He just nodded quickly.

"I-I understand, Serah…I-I don't even want to be here though…" he stammered out. Phobe listened, straightening up as she eyed the maleficar. It was only now she noticed that he was an elf who looked rather young, with short brown hair and gray eyes. He was also scared out of his mind, but that much was obvious "Malacath brought a few of us from the Circle; broke me and my friend out, he did. Said that he had a way to throw down the Chantry and stop the oppression of mages."

"And he did everything that all the other blood mages are doing. Typical." Fenris snorted from his position in the back of the group, his arms crossed over his chest. Phobe kept her eyes on the young mage (though he was most likely older than her)

"That's what Valen, my friend, said." He stated nervously. "Said that mages have gotten nowhere with normal magic. Even blood magic has failed us. 'How many times,' he said 'have mages used blood magic these past ages, and how many times has the Chantry fallen? Only the Tevinter managed, but the rest of us are still in chains!' He said he had an idea, using theories of some revolutionary, but Malacath refused to use such means. Said that it wasn't proven."

"What wasn't?" Hawke asked as he stepped forward. The captive shook his head.

"I don't know. He only ever talked to Malacath about it. But he got awful sore at that. Called Mal a coward, and that they wouldn't know until they tried it. Malacath wouldn't hear it, though, so Valen told me…" He shook his head. Phobe grabbed him by the neck, tilting him to look up at her.

"Told you what?" She growled. "Does it have something to do with the ritual yesterday?"

The kid seemed terrified as he nodded swiftly. "I-I was in charge of drawing the circles. Valen told me to draw a different circle than the one Mal gave me…something he got from his theories. H-He also told me that I needed to switch the daggers that Mal used, provide him with a new one." He tried to gesture to the one in Phobe's hand. "Said that it was a-a blood drinking dagger, stores energy for rituals, and that he used it to kill others already. So I-I did, because he told me if I didn't he'd kill me too. And so I drew the circles and let the ritual go" He flailed as best as he could "Then, when we were drawing from the Fade, YOU popped out of nowhere rather than the demon!" Hawke and the others looked at Phobe, but she kept her eyes and hand on the maleficar.

"Where's this Valen?" she yelled as she gripped at his neck, pressing the edge of the dagger against the bridge of his nose, between his eyes. Panic appeared in the grey orbs and the boy spoke swiftly.

"I don't know! He disappeared last night! I told Mal what Valen did and he wanted to confront him, but he disappeared before we got back! I swear, if I knew what it would've done, I never would've helped him!" the mage yelled back, tears of fear beading in his eyes.

"Bullshit." Phobe growled, but the girl let go, trying to calm herself down. "So I'm guessing your boss is going to know more." The boy nodded quickly, and she let out a sigh of irritation. "I'm going to let you go. You're going to the Circle. You try to run to your friend or try to warn your leader and I'll make you **wish **that you summoned a demon instead of me." To accentuate her point, she slammed the dagger as hard as she could onto the chair beside him. The elf yelped in fear, nodding quickly. She wretched the dagger out of the wood, then sliced the ropes free. As he ran towards the door, a thought came to her, causing her to chuckle. "Fuck. I forgot that Aveline and the others are outside. They'll probably murder the poor bastard." With a sigh, she sat down in the chair the mage just vacated, rubbing her forehead.

"Did we hear that right? You're from the Fade?" Anders asked, watching her curiously. Fenris reached for his blade as Phobe shook her head.

"No. I'm not. I'm from…well, I'm from another world." The girl took a few moments to think, before she sat her bag on her lap, taking out the papers she found earlier. "I found these while looking around earlier. Apparently, Valen, or whoever wrote these, thought that there were more worlds, or planes of existence or whatever you want to call them, other than this world and the Fade." She handed the papers to Hawke, sighing. "And it turns out he was right. I'm guessing by messing with that ritual, he proved his, or B's theories."

"What do you mean, from another world?" Hawke asked as he looked over the sheets.

"Exactly what it sounds like. I'm not from Thedas, or whatever your world is called, nor am I from the Fade. The place I'm from is called Earth and from where I'm from, there's no…demons or magic or...whatever the hell all this bullshit is." Phobe gestured around, rubbing her forehead. "And I really don't want to be here. I didn't lie when I said I was heading home, I just…didn't mention this."

"You could've; Hawke probably would've helped either way." Varric pointed out, though he seemed pleased by this information, or perhaps the revelation of it. Phobe glared at him and the rest of the group.

"And just what was I supposed to say? 'By the way, I'm from some other world that I really want to go back to because yours is just _so_ ass backwards?'" She paused, before sighing and shaking her head. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean that. I guess I didn't mention it because…I didn't want you guys to think I'm crazy and refuse to help. Plus, I didn't really think that it would happen. For a while, I thought that this was just some really, **really** messed up dream." Phobe looked up at the others. "I mean, it's not like people get spirited away to another world every day."

"So you're not going to eat any of us or take over our bodies." Hawke smirked and Phobe smiled slightly as she stood back up.

"I'm no cannibal, and I highly doubt I'll fit in any of your shorts." Her face fell and she down at the ground sighing. "Look, I did lie to you guys, and if you really don't want to get involved, you don't have to, I just… please help me get answers from the boss here. I mean…you're already here and I-"

A hand on her shoulder stopped her and she looked up to see Hawke, his face relaxed and when he spoke, his voice was earnest. "Don't worry. We will help you out. I understand some of your reasoning, and there is no way I'm going to abandon you in the middle of this."

"I...t-thank you, Hawke." The fear was gone from her face, replaced with a relieved smile, and the girl turned around. "Let's go. We've still got someone to interrogate."

"Oh, right; where did the whole nail thing come from?" Varric asked, amused.

"…Read it in a story once."

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_Run away, run away, run away_ Panic still filled his veins as he rushed through the house. His hands were balled into fists in an attempt to focus some of his energy. Liam's foot caught on the remains of a shade, and he crashed to the ground, yelping, but the crash helped clear his head of panic. He winced as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, recalling that the girl had broken it earlier. It surprised him that it was fine now.

Of course, quite a few things have surprised him these past few days. Valen had changed from when the two were in the Circle. His friend was always kind and caring, encouraging the development of healing arts in favour of more violent magics. Now, he was possessed by a strange energy, locking himself into his room to study something in favour of finding a way back to the Circle, like he suggested before.

Then there was the threat. The threat that chilled Liam to the bone and made him think that there was something seriously wrong with this friend. _The room was dark, with only a single candle lighting the desk. Books on the healing arts and research papers were stacked haphazardly upon it, like most of the rest of the room. Liam was pinned against the wall, his larger friend was his attacker. "Liam, Liam, Liam. I'm not asking you to kill templars or anything. I just want you to help me draw a circle." He whispered, in a high voice unlike himself, causing the hairs on the back of the young elf's neck to stand on end. "Draw the circle for me, and give Malacath the knife he needs. That's all. Let's not make this so difficult." And yet, the young elf shook his head again, frightened. He left the wall and was sent to the desk, slamming into it hard enough to jolt the candle, which wobbled precariously. A hand closed around his neck, "What's the matter, Liam? I thought you wanted to get back to the Circle. Why are you helping him instead of me?" Liam tried to think of something, to calm his friend down, but a fist stopped his train of thought. "You WILL help me. You WILL whether you want to or not!"_

_Most of that night passed in a blur. He remembered pain more than anything. He hurt all over, and at the end of it, Valen, his kind and gentle friend, towered over him with anger in his eyes. "Do as I ask, or you'll get worse than this. I'll make you beg me for death at the end, and I will grant it." He left without another word, leaving behind the dagger and the notes._

Liam knew he should've told Malacath what happened, put a stop to the ritual, but he was afraid. Afraid of what Valen had become. _But that girl is afraid too. You saw it._ That traitorous voice in his head whispered. He recalled the girl intimidating him, the talk about the nails. While a disturbing thought, the nervousness in her eyes made it seemed silly. There fear in her eyes, though, drove him to talk. _She's at that point. The point you were at with Valen._ The voice kept whispering and for a brief moment Liam wondered if it was a demon. He recalled when the girl appeared during the ritual. When she looked up, Liam was close enough to read the emotions on her face. Confusion, surprise, horror, and then finally fear- all within the span of ten seconds. Granted, she did hit them pretty hard with the strange bag over her shoulder when she ran, but he still felt guilty. It was mostly his fault for her being there.

No, it was Valen's. Valen was the one who forced him to- _but that doesn't change the fact that you went along with it. And now that girl is stuck here. What if she really is a demon? Would you take responsibility for the fact that you unleashed her on this world? _His stomach turned at the thought, and for a moment, he recalled the moment she held the dagger to his throat, all the fear gone, replaced with desperation and anger, her voice loud as she demanded answers.

Liam grabbed the first serviceable staff he saw and, with a nervous grip, began to head back to the dragon's den.

The last of the demons had fallen at Hawke's sword and Varric's bolts. Fenris was keeping his eyes open a little longer, but Phobe had already sheathed her short sword. "This place can't be much bigger." The girl remarked, "We'll be at the last room soon." And it was true. After the dining room, they came across the kitchen, a small bedroom (stuffed with four cots) and a locked room full of valuables (A lot of the gold found its way in Hawke's pocket, and most of the armour, save for the light leather set Phobe was now wearing, was in their bags, waiting to be sold.) All that was left was the master bedroom, if there was one. The girl shifted the bag on her shoulder as Hawke knelt down to pilfer the corpses of their belongings.

"Any idea what we'll find there?" the warrior asked as he pocketed a small bag of coin.

"Most likely more demons," Fenris remarked as he kicked a pile of rags that was a shade "These mages are predictable as ever."

"Is it so wrong for them to want freedom?" Anders asked, the grip on his staff tightening.

"Regardless." Phobe cut them off before they could continue their argument, "We should be on our guard. You guys have a better idea on what we'll find in there, so I'll trust your judgements. Just let me talk to the big boss man before you kill him." The girl looked at the last unopened door, her teeth finding her lip. "He'd better have answers."

Hawke crossed from the last corpse to the door with Fenris following. Phobe and Varric stood ready to enter next, with the two apostates behind them. With a quick swing of the door, the two warriors stepped in quickly, their hands on their blades. Phobe, Anders, and Merrill stepped in next, with Varric securing a position near the door.

As Phobe guessed, the last room was a large bedroom. However, the décor of the room was far grimmer than the rest of the house. The carpeting had been ripped away, in favour the stained stone underneath it. Where the walls of the other rooms were painted crimson red, these walls were more natural, except for the red splashes and sprays that had already dried to almost a dark reddish-brown. There was a sharp coppery scent in the air, which made Phobe gag. The bed was beside a small study in one corner of the room, with a single bookcase and desk, the latter of which had papers and books spread all over. Standing in the middle of the room, with a corpse in front of him, was their target, a tall man whose eyes were fixed on the girl.

"And so our demon returns." He remarked bitterly as Phobe took a step forward, trying to keep the bile from rising in her throat. Her left hand found the hilt of her sword, and she looked at Malacath over her glasses. "But then, are you really _our_ demon, or are you Valen's?"

"I am no demon. You guys just fucked up." She replied angrily and a strange, twisted smile formed on the maleficar's face.

"I suppose we did. But Valen was right." He began to pace, his eyes fixed on her much like a vulture eying its next meal. "There were other realms, and one could summon other beings." That smile grew and a chill went down Phobe's spine "And then it's just a matter of instilling control."

"Oh, so you just picked a really bad world? Hate to break it to you, but I'm no demon or any type of soldier." The grip tightened on her blade, more for comfort than anything. "If you can summon, I'm sure you can banish… or rather, Valen can. Tell me where he is."

That smile just grew again, and the man's eyes twinkled with something dark. "Oh, but I don't know where Valen is. Little Valen ran off into the dark when we were gone. In fact," His pacing stopped, replaced with a stride towards the group. "I would've thought that _you_, Valen's summon, would know."

"I just got here, you moron." She spoke in a voice more confident than she felt. Hawke took a step closer, and his presence strengthened her. "But if you can't keep an eye on your own men…well, I guess that's the height of incompetence."

Anger flashed in those eyes, but the mage showed no other reaction. "I suppose I underestimated Valen. I wouldn't have guessed that he would force Liam to sabotage the ritual." He laughed then, a frightening laugh that made her flinch. "But it is not _all_ lost, is it?" He took out something then, an item she had dropped and forgot, a small, silver device with a cord dangling from it. "You have something unique, something that this realm doesn't have. Something that if used correctly, could overthrow the templars! All I need to do is unlock these secrets." A mad glee was shown on his face, but there was a long pause before the girl reacted. Then she started to laugh. For several moments, all she could do was laugh. The mage was confused as she doubled over, laughing loudly, all tension gone from her.

"S-something to overthrow the templars?" she asked, still wrapped in her mirth, "What are you going to do? Lullaby them to death? Ah, god, I was actually scared for a second." She straightened then, a smirk forming on her face as the smile was gone from his. "That's no weapon, you idiot, though I should thank you for returning it. I didn't even notice I lost it." She walked over to him, the grin now on her face. "It's a music device; something that people listen to for _entertainment_. Thanks for returning it, although I forgot to shut it off, so I hope the battery isn't dead yet." From his slackened hand, she swiped the device, "Though that solar charger I got from the-"

Not for the first time that day, a staff met her flesh. This time, the gem on the staff smashed into the side of her face with force enough to knock her back. Her shoulder blades met the stone ground and the wind left her lungs, but she had no chance to recover as magic hit her, boiling her blood for a few moments of pain. Rage had consumed the mage's face, and demons emerged from the ground. Hawke and the others had withdrawn their weapons and launched into battle. Hawke had rushed the mage, bringing his sword down hard. Steel met flesh, and a deep gash formed on the maleficar's chest. He stepped back to take energy from his sacrifices, which healed his wounds. Magical bolts flew at Hawke, the maleficar's attention now on the warrior. Fenris kept the demons off Hawke, swinging his own broadsword to bisect a shade, which had dodged as best as it could, though a deep wound was inflicted. A volley of arrows and magic bolts came from Bianca and Merrill respectively, many of which lodged into a rage demon that had approached the fallen girl, to whom Anders sent healing magic. The girl carefully got up, trying to ignore the twitch of her muscles as she joined the fray, lashing out at a shade.

Hawke had leapt up, his sword poised high, his eyes focused on the blood mage. Before gravity could take its force, Malacath jabbed his staff forward, into the warrior's gut. Hawke brought the sword down into the mage's shoulder, though the force of it was severely weakened by the blow he received. With only his strength, Hawke kept the blade biting into the mage's flesh until the width of the blade was sunk in. The warrior then raised his foot, kicking his victim off his sword. The mage moved not as the man took his attention to another demon.

"That's another one for me! How many have you got, Hawke?" Varric shouted as the rage demon fell from the arrows. Beside him, Merril sent a fist of stone to a desire demon that had been summoned, only to follow it up with a volley of magical bolts. Anders prepared another healing spell, this one directed at Hawke, keeping his focus despite a demon lumbering towards him. Phobe quickly engaged it to direct its attention, as Fenris, having killed the closest demons to him, turning to the desire demon with his blade, his markings glowing.

As quickly as it began, the battle was over. The maleficar, dying from his wounds, lay on the ground. Phobe approached him, her sword held loosely in her hand, but the mage just grinned his insane grin. With blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth, he spoke his last. "If I know…Valen, he'll never send you back. You shall remain here….forever." Life left his eyes as Phobe closed hers.

"Well, that did nothing for me…" The girl remarked, bitterness in her voice. Her sword was sheathed as her other hand tightened into a fist. More to herself, she added "So I guess my next step is to find Valen."

"I…I think I know where he went…" A frightful voice remarked from the door. Her eyes shot open and she turned, but Varric had already fixed Bianca on the mage. Liam twitched in fear, but he kept talking. "H-He might have left for the Imperium. That's where the most magical study goes on, he might've gone to find the one who influenced him."

"If he left for another country, how the fuck am I supposed to track him down?" Phobe snapped, but Hawke placed a hand on her shoulder to try and calm her.

Liam kept talking "I-I can probably help. I know how to reach his contacts, and maybe they can help."

"Why would you help her? It is your fault she's here, after all." Hawke asked. The elven mage took a moment, as if to try and relax himself.

"I know. It's my fault she's here, mine and Valen's. Because I let him frighten me, she's here. That's why I…I don't think I can go back to the Circle like this –with this still on my mind. I want to bring Valen back to how he was." The boy's eyes were locked on Phobe, "Please let me help. I swear to you, I'll get Valen to send you home."

"I think he means it." Anders stated. "I can detect no demon from him. He's doing this because he wants to help."

"And what kind of help did he give before?" Fenris replied angrily. "Perhaps this is a ruse for him to kill or subdue her easily."

"N-No! I swear I wouldn't." Liam remarked, his eyes wide. "I'll help you! I want the old Valen back!"

Hawke took only a moment to think. "You should let him. He seems honest enough, for some crazy blood mage."

"…Fine, whatever. I don't give a shit right now." Phobe remarked, her head down. Hawke let go of Phobe, heading over to Liam as Varric lowered his crossbow.

"Thank you! You won't regret it, I promise!" The tension was gone from the elf, and he smiled for the first time since the day began. "Oh, right, my name is Liam, nice to meet you all."

As Varric and Hawke spoke with the boy, getting contacts and information from him, Phobe's eyes were focussed on nothing, her head still hanging low. Her hands moved in spite of themselves, flicking the device she held in her hands on. Tucking one of the buds in her ear, she sighed. The soft mutter of conversation had filled the room; mostly between the mage, the warrior, and the rogue. The rest were silent, their eyes on the room around them or on the exchange of information. As the sounds of a song, much older than her, filled the girl's ear, she began to clean up the damaged room as best as she could and trying to keep her mind away from the information she had received.

888888888

So this one didn't take as long as I thought it would, but there will be a bit of a wait for the next chapter, since I have both grad and exams coming up. I'll try to get it in as fast as I can.

Bonus: Varric and Phobe banter

"_So where did that whole nail threat come from?"_

"_Read it in a book once."_

"_Really? And what kind of book was that?"_

"_Well, it was a story of torture, obviously, torture, murder, paranoia and psychosis. I liked the ending, where the entire town was gassed with poison and over two thousand people died."_

"_. . ."_

"_I'm kidding of course -everyone lived in the end because of some groundhog day loop, deus ex machina and all that."_

"_Well…that's strange… I don't think I'll be telling that story myself."_

"_And the first part of my goal is achieved."_


	4. Journeys begins with partings

As it turned out, the house the mages gathered in belonged to the family of one of the older apostates, who had supplied it after she had escaped from the Circle. Liam, insisting that Phobe leave her heavy bag behind, would send word to the family to get their help in securing the house for the remaining people in the house, though Phobe felt slightly uneasy asking for assistance from the family of someone she had helped killed.

And that was sinking in more and more. In the two days that she was here she found herself killing people, and while the first realization, back in that blood mage sewer den, had hit hard, she now found herself rather dulled from the shock. She recalled the phenomenon in some books she read… _on serial killers_, she remembered, causing her to try and push the thoughts out of her mind. Technically, she had killed more demons than anything, letting Hawke and the others focus on the mages. In fact, she had only beaten up Liam when she fought, afraid of killing him. She hadn't actually killed anyone personally _yet_. Hopefully.

The girl bit her lip, thinking it was best not to dwell on it. As they left the house, she tried to keep all those thoughts down to save them for another night. Hawke was filling Bethany, Aveline, and Isabela on what they found out, with the younger Hawke's hand going to her mouth. Aveline shot a few looks Phobe's way, though they were more out of curiosity than anything. Phobe tried to keep her attention on her music, pressing a button to change a song. Hawke chatted with Varric and Anders about the Deep Roads, while Phobe half-listened to them.

Within a few minutes, Hawke and Varric were speaking with Bartrand, holding up the capital required for their Deep Roads trip. While they were talking, Bethany tapped her on the shoulder.

"So you're from another realm?" She whispered, so that only the group could hear. Phobe just shrugged as she tucked one of the earbuds into her shirt.

"Already had this conversation, but yea."

"What's it like there?"

"Its…different in many ways. There is no magic, but rather…" she paused, wondering if she should mention the advancements of science. She chose against it "Well, there's nothing really to equate to it."

"No magic? So then…there's nothing like the Circle of Magi?"

"Well I wouldn't go that far, I mean, some private schools are prisons of their own. But no. There isn't really." Phobe noticed the confused look on Bethany's face. "Its…don't worry about it. I'm just not good at explaining things."

"…We just pick the most promising one and go!" Bartrand was enthusiastic, grinning at Hawke, who just crossed his arms. "Time to wrap up any business you have in the city, my friend. We won't be back for several weeks at least. Let me know as soon as you are ready and we'll head out. "

"I'm already ready." Hawke interjected, which just made Bartrand's grin grow. "Let's get started."

"Well then let's not waste any more time." Bartrand gathered the other bodyguards for the trip and began to speak loudly. Phobe tried to pay no heed to the speech, having heard it before in the game, until Bartrand said the line "…nice and virginal, ready for a good deflowering." _Okay, ew._ Phobe was tempted to stuff her fingers in her ears, or put her earbud back in, but she decided against it. She didn't want to seem like she's deliberately ignoring them, and she didn't want to miss when they make decisions.

_The Deep Roads Expedition, huh? If I remember correctly, there are quite a few darkspawn in the deep roads still, along with those…golems from hell? What were they called… Right, profanes. Bartrand betrays the group and locks them up and…_ Phobe looked towards Bethany. _If present, Hawke's sibling contracts the darkspawn infection. If Anders is there, he'll be able to direct the group to some nearby Grey Wardens, but if he isn't-_ "Who invited the old bag?" Bartrand's voice cut through her thoughts, and Phobe looked. A woman, bearing a striking resemblance to Hawke, had arrived. _Leandra Hawke._

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Sir Dwarf, but I need to speak with my children." Leandra's voice was hard with determination, which seemed enough to shake Bartrand's resolve for now. Bethany and Hawke walked over to their mother, Bethany trying to scold their mother, who brushed them off. "I just want to know one thing. Are you planning on taking Bethany with you?"

"I don't know, mother. I haven't decided yet." Hawke seemed unsurprised by the question, resulting in a burst from the younger sibling.

"Mother, I'll be fine. I want to go." She sounded calm, but Phobe noticed her hands shaking.

"It's not fine! You can't both go. What if something happens to you?" There was a note of pain in Leandra's voice at that last sentence, but she pressed on. She rounded to Hawke. "You, I understand wanting to do this, but leave your sister here. I beg you."

"It's the templars or the darkspawn, Mother. At least I'm allowed to fight darkspawn." Bethany tried to let her mother see reason. Bartrand, annoyed at the interruption, stepped up to the trio.

"Well you won't be able to take everyone anyhow. We only have room enough for four. You'll need to decide who will be coming." The dwarf gruffly remarked.

"Let me confer with my group then." Hawke grabbed Bethany by the shoulder before the merchant could reply, leading her to a secluded corner. He gestured for the rest of the group to follow, to which most of them quickly did, Phobe only pausing to shut off her device and put it away. Once gathered, he turned to the group. "Varric and I are already going. I need to know who else can or want to."

"Brother, I'm coming along! If the templars catch up-" Bethany started, but Phobe raised a hand to cut her off.

"If darkspawn catch up to you, you'll die. From what I hear, even the Deep Roads themselves want to murder people. With the templars, you'll have a chance."

"Do you even know what the Circle is like?" Anders asked in shock, his eyes full of anger and focussing on Phobe. "It's a horrible place where-"

"Oh shut up. You're the guy who apparently never wants to see the inside of the Deep Roads again and yet, here you are." The comment had a snap on it, which silenced the mage enough for Phobe to continue. "Look, from what I've heard about your uncle, do you _really_ want to leave your mother alone with him? He sold you guys into servitude for a year, who knows what he'll do to your mother without someone watching over her."

"Enough." Hawke stopped Phobe, annoyance on his face. "I would never let my sister come along, Phobe, don't tell me what I already know." He turned to his sister, his tone softening. "Mother is right, Bethany. It's too dangerous." Before the younger sibling could say anything in response, Hawke placed his hands on his sister's shoulders. A soft look came onto his face, one that spoke of sadness and worry. "Bethany, please. Watch over Mother. She hasn't been well since Carver died." The sorrow of her older brother was enough to silence Bethany, but there still was the indignation present on her face. As Hawke turned back to the group, the apostate shot a look of anger at Phobe. Hawke didn't notice as he continued. "Anders, I'll need you coming." The abomination perked up at this, surprise evident on his face. "You're the only one who has any healing abilities, and I'd rather not be caught flatfooted there. Plus, you can detect Darkspawn. You'll give us an edge."

"Very well, Hawke." The mage replied, sounding not at all displeased, "...though someone will need to look after my clinic while I'm gone."

"Ooh! I can do that!" Merril chirped up, effectively breaking the dark mood. "I took care of many wounds as the First's apprentice."

"I am _not_ trusting a crazy blood mage to my patients!" Anders retorted, but Phobe stifled a laugh.

"I'll watch over her and make sure she doesn't cauterize wounds with fire." The girl assured the mage before looking at the rest of the group. "Honestly. I can't fight worth a damn. I'll just be extra weight to heft about. As much as I _want_ to go, it's not practical for anyone."

"Very well then." Hawke stated, as if the matter was settled. "Aveline, since you have your business with the guard, I doubt you'll be able to disappear for a few weeks." The look on the guard's face was conflicted, Hawke grinned as he patted his friend on the back "So I trust that you'll make sure that Phobe gets trained up by the time we get back."

"Wait, what?"

In the end, it was decided that Isabela would accompany them. Hawke was a warrior that relied on strength, meaning that one with a basis of speed would be instrumental for a balanced frontal attack and, if needed, defense. Leandra was relieved by Hawke's choice, though her hand gently resting on her daughter's shoulder. "Be safe, my son." The older woman smiled a sad smile as she walked off with Bethany, and for a brief moment, Hawke looked as though he wanted to hold his mother. Phobe looked away before she was affected by the mood of the moment.

Leave it to Bartrand to cut through and ruin it. "Personal drama over with then? Let's get underway." Hawke shook his head to clear it, and nodded quickly. Varric stepped over to his brother.

"Been a long time coming, eh, brother?" the merchant prince asked with a smirk on his face.

"Too long. The Deep Roads await!" Bartrand cried out. Anders, Hawke, Varric, and Isabela began to walk with the gathered group, the latter winking at everyone else.

"We'll bring back some souvenirs! Anyone want a Darkspawn skull?" she called back. Varric elbowed her in the side, amusement evident on his face. The pirate was undeterred "Someone better buy me a drink when we get back!"

Phobe couldn't help but laugh, her hand raised to wave farewell to the group. Once they disappeared around a corner, Aveline gathered everyone. "So, what shall we do in the meantime?" Fenris asked, his arms crossed as he eyed the remaining group. "If I stay in Danarius' mansion for the whole of three weeks, I'm sure to go mad."

"Well, Merril and I can open the clinic for most of the day. If you know how to treat wounds, you can help too, Fenris." But the look on the fugitive's face told otherwise, or perhaps it was just distain for anything that relates to Anders. Phobe chose to believe the former. "Maybe we'll choose from an hour after dawn to three after noon, and again for three hours before we turn in for the night." Phobe stated, to which Merril seemed to agree happily, her head bobbing up and down.

"Two hours after dawn. Hawke did want me to train you." Aveline remarked, "You can join the guards in the morning exercises. We start just before dawn" Phobe protested, claiming she couldn't wake up before dawn, but Aveline ignored her. "I'll wake you up."

"One thing. Someone must watch over Hawke's sister." Fenris remarked, in a tone that said he didn't trust mages, meaning his usual. "The templars are after her."

"We'll take turns then." Aveline replied. "Say for example you in the morning," she pointed at Fenris, "Then Phobe, then myself, then Merril."

"Merril needs her own watcher, if I may be frank." The fugitive grumbled, though he was ignored by the referred individual.

"Oh, that sounds lovely! I bet the clinic will be quieter in the evening, so only one person needs to watch over it!" The Dalish remarked. Aveline nodded in agreement, settling the issue.

"How about we also take a day or so off as well?" Phobe asked. The other three looked at her, "Think about it. Bethany will keep her mind on the Expedition, and the templars will find her faster if she stays in one place for four full weeks. We can pick a random day to head out every few days and, I don't know, fight some of those slavers on the coast. Do a few odd jobs to supplement their income. God knows that they need it with Hawke gone."

"Agreed. Gamlen is a sack of shit. With Hawke gone, Leandra and Bethany can't rely on him." Aveline replied. "It is still noon. We can take the rest of today to help with the Hawkes, and then we'll do it again in say, three days."

"Then let's go." Phobe stated, and the group began to head to Lowtown.

"So, you're not from Thedas?" Merril quipped in curiosity.

"Oh for god's sake, not again." Phobe groaned. "No I'm not."

"'God's sake'? You believe in the gods?" Merril tilted her head "What god does your world believe in? is there more than one, like the Dalish believe?"

"There's more than one religion, at least a hundred worldwide. Some worship the same god in different names, some believe in multiple gods, some, like myself, believe there is no invisible man in the sky watching over everything we do." The girl rolled her eyes as they passed through the markets, towards the stairs down to Lowtown. By now, the others were paying attention to the conversation.

"You don't believe in the gods? Then why did you say-"

"It's because I'm an atheist that I can say that. Most religious people wouldn't throw around the name randomly…then again, I suppose they would in this- er, my day and age. Or rather, my world…realm…great now I'm confused." Phobe sighed, rubbing her forehead as they walked through the Lowtown market loop, ignoring the vendors shouting to get their attention. Merril was quiet for all of two seconds.

"What's your world like? Are there big forests?" "In some parts." "What about vast oceans?" "In some parts." "Places like the deep roads?" "Sort of." "Are-" "Merril, please shut up." "Ohh…" The blood mage had a small pout on her face, which made the other girl laugh slightly as she raised a hand to Gamlen's door. Bethany, unsurprisingly, was not pleased to see Phobe knocking, but opened it enough to let the group in.

"What do you want?" she asked sulkily as Aveline and Merril sat down. Fenris stayed standing and Phobe leaned against a wall, away from the group. The younger Hawke was watching Phobe as she stated the question, a frown on her face. Gamlen was eyeing the group suspiciously, and Leandra wasn't there. Probably in another room.

"Hey, I am sorry about those comments I said, but I stand by them. Your mother needs someone here." Phobe replied, her arms crossing over her chest. While Bethany didn't refute the statement, she still glared angrily at the realm hopper. Aveline started to speak before the mage could.

"Look, Bethany. You can't just sit in the house all day. Hawke took most of the funds for the expedition, and the few silvers you have left will not last long, considering Gamlen's…habits." The mentioned man glared at the speaker, but stopped when he realized it was the guard.

"I know that, Aveline… I just wish I could've come along." The mage sighed. Merril patted her on the elbow.

"It's alright, Bethany! We can do other things like jobs and stuffs! We should go to the Chanter's board! There should be something there!" The elf quipped up happily.

"Provided Hawke didn't take all of the ones there…" Phobe muttered, but she opened the door regardless. "And I'm sure there are odd jobs around elsewhere. Hell, Aveline might be able to find one."

The sight that greeted them when they arrived at the board confused Phobe. Personally, she would've thought Hawke would be the one to activate this cutscene, but apparently not. A man with a bow strapped to his armour was pinning something to the boards as they turned the corner. The glee on Merril's face that not everything was gone waned when an old woman approached the man. Phobe quickly held up a hand as she stopped. In game, the Grand Cleric never cared much about mages walking around with Hawke…but they weren't with Hawke at the moment.

Thankfully, the woman was occupied. "Sebastian! Stop this madness! The chantry cannot condone revenge, Sebastian!"

The man, obviously the one that the Cleric was referring to, turned to face the woman. He wasn't fazed by her words. When he spoke, there was a hard edge to his voice. "It is my right, my _duty_, to show these assassins that there is nowhere in the Free Marches to hide." He walked away, having said his piece, but the elder woman was undeterred. She ripped the paper from the wall, holding it up with anger.

"This is murder!" She declared, watching the man, who, in an instant, drew his bow and fired a single arrow, which pinned the notice back where he put it. The woman had let go in surprise and shock.

"No…What happened to my _family_ was murder." He replied cooly before walking away. He walked through the group, and Phobe looked as the woman left, throwing her hands up in irritation.

When the coast was clear, Phobe walked up to the board, tearing the notice back down to read it while Merril chatted with the others about what they saw.

"_A grave crime was committed against all free-thinking men and women in the Free Marches."_ Phobe read out as she turned to the group. Not loud enough for the whole square to hear, but it effectively cut off Merril's chatter. She pouted again. "_The ruling Vael family in Starkhaven, my family, was brutally murdered, down to the youngest babe in arms. _Nasty…" she made a bit of a face before continuing. "_This massacre was carried out by the members of the Flint mercenary company. I hereby offer a bounty on the head of each Flint Company soldier in the Kirkwall vicinity. _Signed by Prince Sebastian Vael." She folded the paper and tucked it into a pocket on her leg.

"Hmph… it would be good to kill these murderers." Fenris remarked bitterly as he crossed his arms. Merril nodded in agreement, but the fugitive didn't acknowledge her.

"Well, I'm sure killing would be excessive, but if they're outside Kirkwall, we can't exactly lock them up. Besides, the job doesn't call for that." Aveline replied as she sighed. As a guard, it was her duty to enforce the law, not deal capital punishment.

"We could always find out more information, though. That old woman seems to know about this. Maybe we can, at the very least, find out clues where the Flint company could be." Phobe argued as she looked at the building that the woman entered. "…Might not be a good idea for Bethany and Merril to go in there though. Chantry is probably crawling with templars. They'd be recognized as mages immediately…" She scratched her cheek as she thought. "Aveline, why don't you, Bethany, and Merril head on back to the guard barracks? See if you can get any information there, on either the Flint or other jobs. Fenris and I'll ask around here."

Surprisingly, the guard didn't question the girl's judgement, only thinking about it herself before nodding. "Alright, the guards wouldn't report them anyways. The Chantry's business is none of ours. Meet us at the Hightown markets once you're done, and we'll exchange information then figure out our next move." The group split off then, with the fugitive and the traveller heading to the religious building, and the mages and the guard to the state building.

88888

Gonna end it off here for now. Would've done a better job on it if I wasn't busy with exams this month. Next chapter will be better


	5. Just a Job

Well, this took a year and some. I have no excuses, other than I lost my muse and found it finally.

The Chantry was rather large, as it was in the game, but quiet. All the sounds of Kirkwall were muted here, and the candles set about made the area well lit, though the light didn't reach all the way to the high ceilings. Six prominent statues each held a staff, in which incense was burning, and the scents calmed any who walked in. The atmosphere here was quiet, peaceful, and most holy, with just the right amount of imposing presence from the gigantic statue in the back. Still, Phobe was never a religious individual, not back home, and certainly not of the religion here of Thedas. She ignored the Andraste statue in the back as she walked briskly through the hallowed halls. The realm traveler could hear the soft sounds of conversation, whether it was the sisters of the chantry snidely chattering about the Qunari and how they should be put down like beasts, or the gentle murmurs of everyday people as they prayed to the Maker for various reasons. Many voices could be heard, soft and echoing in the hushed environment, but they were just as loud as the soft tones of conversation in a restaurant. As she and Fenris climbed up the stairs, Phobe was surprised at how easily they could just waltz right over to the Grand Cleric, standing on her raised platform as though she was expecting them. Unfortunately for them, the talk was less than fruitful when it came to their targets. They found out that Sebastian Vael was the heir to the Starkhaven throne, but other than religious spewing that made Phobe grimace, there was nothing but pleads to not to take this job, for murder was a sin in the eyes of the Maker.

As the traveler and the fugitive walked down the stairs from the platform, Phobe let out an angry sigh. "Well, that was a fucking waste of time." She muttered under her breath.

"We found out information about our employer; not entirely a waste. Nothing on our targets though…" Fenris pondered for a moment as the two pushed the doors open to Hightown, and when they were out in the sun, he spoke again in a contemplative tone. "Perhaps we can find out more in the Hanged Man; it is where all the lowlifes live, according to Varric."

"Worth a shot… Alright, let's go" The girl nodded, and the two altered their course to take them to Lowtown. Conversation fell for a while, attention taken by other things. As Fenris stewed in his thoughts, his sharp eyes keeping watch of their surroundings, Phobe curiously studied the streets of Hightown. The sounds of shopkeepers trying to get the attention of potential customers, and the scents of the various stalls were quite unlike anything she had seen back home…

"So, you're really from another world?" Fenris asked abruptly after a few minutes of walking. Unlike Bethany and Merril's inquires, his words sounded suspicious, mistrustful. The girl turned her eyes from a nearby weapon stall, the sharp blades gleaming brightly in the sunlight.

"How many times do I have to answer this question before it sinks in?" Phobe grumbled to herself under her breath before nodding as she raised her voice a few decibels, "You believe otherwise?"

"How do we know you're not a demon in disguise? You could be lowering Hawke's guard by feeding him a fool story." He shot back, and she noted that the fugitive had specifically mentioned the leader of the group.

"You didn't seem to think it was bullshit story when you threatened Liam." A pause to let the words sink in, "And besides, from what I heard about your demons, they try to stay in this world and -I don't know…eat people." She replied with a shrug in her voice and shoulders as they started down the large staircase to Lowtown.

"Could still be an elaborate ruse," The warrior argued irritably.

"You seem perfectly capable of coming up with your own wild conspiracy theories, Fenris. I don't see why I have to add any detail to them." Phobe stated with a bit of finality to her tone, causing the lyrium-marked elf to growl in frustration. Mentally, the girl could see a little notification in the corner of her mind, which read 'Fenris Rivalry +5.' It made her want to laugh, though she kept it quiet lest she further irritate the elf. The rest of their trip to the Hanged Man was quiet as both returned to their own thoughts. It was Phobe who pushed the door open this time, and like before, the bar was bustling, even in the middle of the day.

"What'll it be?" the bartender grumbled as the fugitive stepped forward to lean against the counter. Phobe moved out of the way of the door into the closest corner to the bar, allowing the white-haired elf take charge.

"I'm looking for some information, and I was hoping you could give it to me." The fugitive stated almost conversationally, green eyes focused on the man behind the bar, who simply moved to wipe a glass clear with a cloth.

"Depends on what you want to hear and what I've heard, was the gruff response as the bartender shrugged his shoulders.

"Have you heard anything about the Flint Mercenary Company?" Fenris asked, to which the bartender snorted. Rather than immediately answer, however, he set down the glass and poured out a measure of watered down ale, which he slid down the bar to another patron. The fugitive waited calmly as the man grabbed another glass to start cleaning, and only when he was set in his task did he speak.

"Yea, I hear a bit, like how someone put a price on their heads, pch, poor sods. Course, ain't any business of mine, course, but apparently, a small group of them gathers around the docks once a week, but always in the dead of night; they don't want anyone listening to what they do." Satisfied with the answer, the elf set a bronze coin on the counter as he stepped away, which quickly disappeared from the wooden surface, no doubt tucked into the bartender's pockets.  
>"I doubt the group at the docks would be the only ones around Kirkwall" Phobe stated quietly when Fenris approached. She stepped away from the corner and the two began to head out the door. "Aveline might hear about more from the barracks."<p>

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By the remaining members of the group had gathered, it was already past midday. Most of the merchants of Hightown were setting out fresh wares, anticipating the rush of people headed through the markets from their midday meals or servants purchasing things for dinner. At the raised balcony to the entrance of the mage's hovel where Phobe now lived, the red-haired guard was leaning against the stone railings, with the two mages, leaning against the walls of the connected homes, chatting behind her. When the fugitive and the traveler appeared around the corner, Aveline gestured to Merril and Bethany and they pushed off their respective surfaces as the two made it up the stairs. The five of them created a circle to start sharing their information, with Fenris going first after the pleasantries were exchanged, explaining the position of the Chantry and what they could gather from the Hanged Man.

"Patrols near Sundermount, close to the Dalish camp, and the Wounded Coast have spotted mercenaries wearing the Flint colour and armour." Aveline reported, lowly so that anyone passing by on their way home would not overhear. Bethany kept an eye out, since she already knew what the captain was relaying, and Merril was examining the wood of a nearby door. "I would suggest we head to the coast first; fast and hard travel will take us there within three hours. Then, we head inland to deal with the group in Sundermount, and that would leave us enough time to catch up with the group in the docks, provided tonight is the night that they meet."  
>"If that is the case, then we'd best travel light to quicken our journey." Bethany added, as hushed as the guard was. She paused in her speech as below, a small group of templars walked. Thankfully, they didn't seem to notice the younger Hawke or the elven apprentice, and she continued when they were out of earshot. "Some potions, our weapons and armour should be the only things we carry. That will also give us extra room to pick up any valuables we get from the mercenaries, and anything useful we may find."<p>

"Good idea…No need to grab anything then…We should leave as soon as possible, if we want to hit all three groups in one go." Phobe replied, and Aveline lead them down the stairs, through the markets, and out of Kirkwall.

As the streets of Kirkwall, then the surrounding area, faded from around them, the path to the Wounded Coast started to become as barren as their destination. The road snaked through small hills, and around large stone formations, with very little greenery. Aveline kept a hard pace as she led the group, and Phobe was almost glad to recognize their surroundings when they reached the coast. For a girl who spent most of her time sitting at home, or at school, the pace was rather difficult, and she kept silent most of the time just so that she could keep up with the others. The last thing she wanted to do was seem like a burden. When they stood on the edge of the coast, there was a corpse to greet them, and Fenris checked its pockets while the guard captain surveyed the area.

"Alright…I suggest we start looking." Aveline stated, looking at the fork in the road. "Patrols reported that there are a few camps inland, I believe…" the guard added as she lead them up the right path, surrounded by rocks and bent trees. The first bend they saw had a battered crate lying near it, and the warrior frowned as she looked up the road, equally strewn with trash.

"Bandits, most likely…" Bethany remarked when she saw what the guard was staring at. "I think we can spare some time to teach them their place." A smile formed on the apostate's face as she and Merril both pulled out their staffs.

"We should at least check their numbers before we attack. Five of us against however many…" Phobe suggested, now that she had managed to regain her breath. Aveline nodded silently before she lead the others up the path, stopping just at a large rock jutting out, right before the road bent into the camp. Fenris climbed over the rocks and crept to the edge of the cliff, keeping in the shadows to avoid casting another that could alert the bandits.

"They're not bandits…mercenaries, more like. Could be our targets… Six below, three clustered, the rest spread out." The fugitive remarked as he pulled his blade off his back, even as he kept low. Aveline gathered rest of the group, dropping her voice.

"Alright…Merril, Bethany, You two prepare spells to hit the cluster. Fenris and I will attack the individuals, and Phobe, you protect the girls." The guardswoman ordered quietly, as she prepared her sword and shield and Fenris vanished off. Phobe nodded as she pulled her short sword from its sheath, waiting for the attack to begin. Just as she noticed the elf in the shadows on the other side of the grove, fire rained down from the sky just as lightning erupted from Merril's staff, arcing to the mercenaries standing in a cluster. Fenris and Aveline took this as a sign to charge, the former leaping down from the rocks with his sword bearing down on a startled man, while the latter rushed with her shield, smashing it into the face of a mercenary before they managed to pull out their bow. The last Flint standing fired his bow at the closest threat, Fenris, just before Merril and Bethany took him down with magical bolts.

"…Wow, that was quick…" Phobe remarked quietly, blinking as Merril and Bethany headed to the center of the clearing, their staffs on their backs. Aveline was kneeling down beside a corpse, checking it, while Fenris pulled the arrow from his arm with barely a grunt of pain. The injury quickly healed with a flick of Bethany's fingers, but the fugitive paid little heed. The corpses and a nearby chest were quickly plundered, the traveler making a note to tuck the pendant lifted from a mercenary into her pocket and they were back on their way.

Sundermount was a similar affair. After a few hours of brisk travel, the group found four mercenaries spread out among the rocks. Fenris and Aveline rushed ahead towards the most obvious group as Merril and Bethany prepared the spells. It wasn't until an arrow flew past Bethany's head that they noticed a fifth, hidden behind some rocks across the path. Phobe knelt down for a just a moment, her hand close to the ground, before rushing at him. As he brought up his bow to try and knock the traveler aside, she threw a handful of dirt and dust in his face, forcing the man to abandon his attack and cover his eyes. With her other hand, she brought her blade arm up, knocking the mercenary's slackened bow aside and slicing her way across his throat. As he fell to the ground, Phobe winced as she wiped the blood off her face, her stomach turning uneasily as she watched him gurgle his last breath. She had little time to feel disgust or remorse, since she had to rush back to the two mages, a mercenary attempting to break from the other three to try and attack them. Aveline parried the weapon just as he got close, however, and a quick slash from Fenris brought the man down.

"Well, that settles that." Bethany stated as she placed her staff on her back. "Perhaps we should take a quick breather before we head back to Kirkwall?" Aveline nodded in response, and, after they looted the corpses, shoved them aside to clear a space for them to sit. Soon, the two warriors and the traveler were sitting on the ground, cleaning their weapons, while Bethany chatted with the guardswoman, a bit of dried meat in her hands. Merril curled up quietly beside her, staring blankly in a direction, where in the distance, someone was watching the group suspiciously.

"Are you alright, Merril?" Phobe asked as she put the cleaned sword beside her. The mage jumped as if shocked, and looked over to the traveler.

"Oh, yes! I… suppose you don't know though…My clan is near here." The blood mage smiled just a bit as she pointed towards the person out in the distance, who was joined by someone else. Even from this distance, one could tell they carried weapons. "Oh, I'm not too sure you know, but I'm a member of the Dalish, or rather…I used to be… My clan is right over there." She gestured almost listlessly.

"What happened?" Phobe frowned sympathetically as she pulled her glasses off her face to clean the lens.

"I'll just say that I had a disagreement with the Keeper, or the leader of the clan, and I decided to go a separate way."

"She means that the clan disagreed with the fact that she consorts with demons." Fenris replied venomously. Merril winced at the verbal slap, but shot a wounded look to the fugitive.

"I'm doing something that will benefit the Dalish, and anyways, once I finish, I'm sure I'll be able to return." There was a finality her tone that silenced the retort that came to Fenris, and the rest of the break passed by in silence, save for the guard and the younger Hawke chatting quietly with each other. Merril stared quietly at where her clan was camped while Fenris and Phobe listened quietly, the former sitting straight while the latter cleaned her glasses. Before long, the group of five gathered up their belongings and started on their way again.

The walk back to the City of Chains was quiet in the setting sun, and they had just made it back about an hour after night had fallen. Thankfully, the moon was bright that night, so the group had little difficulty navigating the streets by sight. The few groups of thugs they came across were quickly dispatched by the five, and by the time they could smell the scent of the sea over the filth of Lowtown, their bags were full of pilfered goods.

"What I don't get," Phobe grumbled as she rubbed a sore spot on her arm, where a thug had smashed her with a shield, "Is how or why they come in waves. You'd think these street gangs wouldn't have so many disposable lackeys."

"You'd be surprised at how many people turn to crime in Kirkwall." Aveline stated as her eyes shifted briefly to the Qunari complex, where two large men stood, arms crossed and watching the group pass by. "Ever since the Blight, there have been too many refugees in the city, and nowhere near enough jobs. You get people who'd take advantage of the poor souls, using them as cheap labour, but most don't even bother hiring."

"Well, that explains the how, but you'd think that they'd be a lot more effective if they just swarmed all at once, rather than take turns." Phobe shrugged her shoulders. "Archers strike first, then the warri-"

"Let's not give the thugs ideas." Fenris dryly quipped as he walked past the young girl, sheathing the sword on his back. "It's not like they can be that smart anyways."

Shortly after he said that, an arrow shot through his knee and forced him to the ground. Phobe tried not to burst out laughing as battle took them once more.

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They returned to the Chantry just before dawn broke. Fenris was still gingerly limping even after healing, Phobe clutched a rag to her bleeding forehead, and Aveline was nursing a very sore shoulder. After dealing with the last group of mercenaries, they immediately started to make their way to the chantry, figuring they'd turn the job in before dawn. It only occured to Phobe that the priests would not be awake at the hour, but thankfully, they did not have to wait, or even look around for very long. A shouting match was going on near the altar to Andraste, between the grand cleric and a young man in shiny armour, one that they had recognized as the one who put up the notice in the first place. The three approached the two Maker-worshippers, and Phobe as they approached, the words became clearer.

"...came to inquire about the job, and you may have consigned them to death!" the Grand Cleric stated furiously.

"If they took my job then they know the risks!" Sebastian's scottish accent rang out. And then he turned to look at them as they approached. "And look! They...er...are back." As his eyes landed on their injuries, his anger started to deflate, but Aveline stepped forward before the Cleric could default their contract.

"The mercenaries are dead." The guardswoman stated in a clipped tone as she held up proof of the deed, a Flint mercenary's bloodied curiass, taken off one of the corpses in the docks. The prince blinked once, but took it nonetheless as he looked between the guard, the fugitive, and the realmwalker.

"I... see... Thank you." He half-murmured, his eyes lingering on Phobe, who was rubbing a healing poultice into her forehead injury, for a few seconds, before frowning a little as he looked back to Aveline. "Are you all alright?"

"Yes, we are. Just awaiting our payment." Fenris dryly stated as he shifted on his feet, trying to stand in a more comfortable position. Sebastian nodded, and held out four gold coins.

"Payment well earned. Thank you for avenging my family." The Starkhaven heir gave a small smile. The Grand Cleric frowned deeply.

"Murder does not solve murder, Sebastian. You would do well to remember that." She spoke in a furious tone, but nevertheless, walked off. Most likely so that she would not continue with a scene. Fenris took the coins, before glancing to Aveline and Phobe then at the door. Their business was done here, so the fugitive and the guard turned and left.

Phobe decided to stay for a few moments longer. "Excuse me, Mis-er... Messer Vael?" She spoke up, internally wincing at her slip. Sebastian's eyes turned to her curiously as Phobe reached into one of the many pouches on her belt. Most of them contained healing items or items taken off the thugs and mercenaries they have killed. Only one of them was relatively empty, with only one item that she soon fished out. "I believe this belongs to...The Vael family." She withdrew the locket that she had taken from the group in Sundermount, placing it in the archer's hand.

His eyes lit up in recognition, and he quickly turned it over in his hands. "This is...I..." He started, and Phobe could see the tears in his eyes. A bit of sympathy stabbed into her heart. "...Thank you, for returning my mother's locket to me." He whispered softly, before reaching into his pocket. Phobe stopped him by raising a hand. He looked up confused.

"Don't. I don't need payment for this." She stated, before giving him a small, wry smile. "I know what its like to be away from the people you care about most..." The realmwalker gave him a little incline of the head, and made to follow her companions.

"Wait. I would like to know your name. You and your companions."

Phobe glanced back, and just shrugged her shoulders. "I'm Phobe, the painted elf is Fenris, and with us was Guard Captain Aveline. We're just a few companions to one Serah Garrett Hawke." She replied after removing the rag that she had against her forehead. The girl gave him a little wave, before she continued on her way.

Sebastian just turned his eyes to the locket in his hands, and held it a little tighter. He stood there for a few more minutes, head lowered, before he returned to his duties.

88888888

"What took you so long?" Merril asked curiously once Phobe had stepped over. Aveline held out a handful of silver coins to the realm walker, her portion of the pay. She shrugged as she took it.

"Eh, got a little lost. This place is fucking huge." The girl with glasses replied. The Dalish elf nodded in understanding, but Aveline took over the conversation before she could reply.

"You should use that money to buy some better armour, Phobe. Or at least replace that set of clothing that you came here with." Aveline stated, frowning a little. "You stand out a lot in it."

"Neh. I'm sure there's some clothes in the house somewhere...I'll check after I sleep" The girl let out a yawn, lifting her glasses a little to rub at her eyes. "'m not used to pulling all-nighters."

Ignoring her terminology, Aveline nodded. "I'm sure we all could use rest, so I suppose we'll break up for the day; Merril, once you wake up, you should open up the clinic."

"Ooh! I can open it right now! I'm not that tired!" She smiled brightly, before looking around. "Anyone else want to come along?"

"I have to get to my duties." Aveline replied, sighing as she looked up at the brightening sky. Clearly, she wanted to return to her warm bed as well.

"I have to check up on mother, but after that, I'll head on over." Bethany smiled at Merril, who squealed in joy.

"And Fenris and I will take over once we both can get some rest." Phobe replied as she adjusted her glasses, giving a tired smile to the group. "Aveline, we'll walk with you to Hightown."

The group broke up after that, with Merril and Bethany heading to Lowtown, and the other three up the stairs of Kirkwall. The city was waking up around them, and Phobe took a deep breath that turned into a yawn.

"Phobe, were you a fighter in your world?" Aveline suddenly asked when they approached the top of the stairs. The girl looked back, before shaking her head.

"Not really. A few scuffles between children, yes; I was a bit of a bully when I was younger." Phobe shrugged, ignoring an irritated look from Fenris. "But when I grew up, I mellowed out a lot."

"But you never killed anyone before coming here, have you?" The guard pressed on with a frown on her face.

"Nope. Worst I did was 'break someone's nose' but I didn't really, she was just a whiny bitch." She paused, noticing the confused look on Fenris and Aveline's faces. "...She framed me, I swear."

"Well...regardless...you haven't really...shown many signs of being affected by the combat we faced today, or yesterday for that matter." They were approaching the market now, and Phobe could see the Maleficar home that she had effectively stolen and Fenris shot a glare at it. "Most people, after their first time killing, have troubles coping with the fact they took a life. If you're having troubles you-"

"I'm fine, Aveline." Phobe interrupted as they stopped in front of the stairs. She tried to make her exhaustion seem only due to her lack of sleep. "Well, maybe it just hasn't caught up yet, but I'll deal with it when it does. To be honest...I don't think its really sunk in yet."

"'Sunk in?'" Fenris repeated with a frown on his face. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well...Just everything." Phobe sighed as she rubbed at her face with both hands, her glasses getting pushed up onto her forehead. "The fact that I'm here in this...weird ass fantasy land, with elves and dwarves and fucking magic and shit..." At this, Fenris glared angrily at her, but Phobe paid the grumpy elf no mind. "The fact that I'm killing people, and I'm probably going to keep killing people for as long as I'm here... " She let out a long exhale before lowering her hands. "I dunno. It just still feels like I'm sleeping. And I'll wake up back home like this is just some demented dream."

Aveline placed a hand on the younger girl's shoulder, "I'm sorry, Phobe. Just know that we're here for you; if you need to talk, just let us know."

"No...don't worry, I'll be alright." Phobe gave the guard a smile, before moving to go up the stairs. "At least I will be when I get some actual sleep. I'll see you later, Aveline, Fenris." Phobe headed up and towards the door before they could return her farewell.

Aveline watched the door long after it closed, worry on her face, but she nevertheless walked off with Fenris.

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Wow, that took way longer than it should've. Is anyone even reading this anymore?

Anyhow, here's a little extra with Cassandra, I know someone wanted to see something like that before.

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"Enough of your lies, Dwarf!" Cassandra snapped, not for the first time since Varric started to speak of the realm traveler. The seeker started to pace irritably as her prisoner fell silent, though with that ever present smirk on his face. "You mean to tell me that this girl is neither abomination nor demon, and yet is from the far reaches of the Fade."

"Actually, from a realm further than the-"

"Yes, I heard you the first time!" Cassandra practically shouted, and it took her a few minutes to calm her anger, all the while, Varric chuckling softly. "I expect you to mix truth and lie in your tale for...dramatic purposes," she spat the word out as though no one had ever told a tall tale before, "but to tell an outright lie like that..."

"Believe me, seeker. Hardly any one of us believed it when we first heard it. I don't think Phobe knew, but Hawke, Aveline, pretty much everyone kept an eye out, just in case she was pulling the wool over our eyes. Of course, once we started to trust her more, and she us, she let us know a little bit more about her home... and the things she brought from there." A small smile formed on Varric's face, as he reached into his pocket to withdraw a small, silver rectangle. Nonchalantly, he tossed it over to Cassandra, who quickly caught it in her hands. There was a smaller black rectangle in the top half of it on one side, and below that was a circle with various symbols on it. The seeker looked rather confused, but Varric let out a soft chuckle.

"Go ahead and take a look at it. It's broken anyways; just stopped working out of the blue. Phobe guessed that the power source shorted out, or something like that. When it worked, though, every now and then, all of us would gather together for drinks or a game of cards, and that little device would be passed around to whoever won a round so they could listen to some music."

"Music? How-" The seeker asked as she continued to examine the item.

"I don't quite know, and Phobe wasn't the best at explaining it." Varric replied as he held out his hand for the music device. Only after Cassandra was finished with it, did she let him take it back and tuck it away. "Once it broke, she held onto it for old time's sake, saying that she'd get it repaired when she got back home..."

"And it ended up in your hands, how?" Her arms folded over her armoured chest, and the Seeker's eyes turned to suspicious slits.

"Come now, what sort of storyteller tells the story out of order?" was Varric's drawl as he leaned back in his seat, "besides aren't you interested in the tale of the Champion of Kirkwall?"

"This is related. Tell me."

"In due time, Seeker, In due time. Anyhow, after that, we started on our Deep Roads trip..."


	6. Darkness in Hearts and Minds

_The dream was a lot stranger than it should've been. For one, on the edges of The Girl's vision, she could **see** the Fade, like it was the backstage of a poorly scrapped-together play. The brownish sky towered over her, visible through the cracks in the ceiling. The stage was set in her room, left just as she had last seen it. Posters were stuck to the walls, mostly of video games or anime that she had enjoyed. Her bed was between a nightstand and a bookshelf, placed awkwardly so that it jut into the center of her room; she had to walk around it every single time that she wanted to look out the window. Clutter covered the floor; discarded clothing, her netbook and charger, books, even plushes. Everything was in place, even her, sitting in the center of her bed. There was a book in her lap; on Greek Mythology. She remembered that she was supposed to do an assignment for it... There were papers pressed up against the pages, and she was scribbling something down. Illegible in the dream, and yet making sense to her._

_And a part of her knew it was a dream, but she was too tired to actually be lucid in it. Or maybe she just wasn't sleeping enough. Who knew how dream physics worked...certainly not her. All she knew was that she needed to finish her assignment, so her head was lowered as she continued to scribble. There was music playing in the background, one that her mind recognized, probably mimicking, and it soothed her as she worked. Once she was done, she'd go down and play video games. Beat another playthrough of Dragon Age 2, even if it did suck compared to the first._

_A scream suddenly broke through the air and The Girl looked up from her book. Somehow, the world around her shifted. She wasn't sitting in her room anymore, but...somewhere else. On top of a rock in the middle of the Fade. The walls had melted away, as did the furniture and even the clutter on the floor. There was no floor now, or at least very little; she was just on a spire that floated over nothingness. But she was no longer alone. Below the girl was a bloodied face, which she recognized almost instantly. The blood mage that they had fought; the one that made her realize reality. She was screaming as she tried to climb up the spire, and out of what little ground remained, other beings came forward. She recognized the blood mages robes, and the mercenaries' armours, and all beings continued to scream at her. The Girl tried to stand up, to make it harder for her to be caught, but she couldn't move. There was nowhere to run to anyways._

_The female blood mage grabbed her foot, and The Girl quickly kicked with her foot, as a reflex. But a mercenary grabbed her other. They started to pull, and her voice screamed in chorus with theirs as the small crowd started to tear her apart. There was pain, even in the dream; though they could not boil her blood, sharpened nails dug into her skin, and the shouts that surrounded her deafened her to her own screams. In the midst of all this, someone was calling. She was suddenly being shaken, and she could hear the calling louder and louder._

_"Phobe! Phobe!"_

"Phobe, wake up!" Her eyes snapped open, and she quickly looked around. The room was dark, dark dark, and she couldn't see anything but the dim shadow above her. Her throat was sore, but still she screamed. The shadow shook her once more. "Phobe! Calm down!" There was a brief glow on her shoulders, which lit up the being for only a moment. The elven mage, the one whom she now shared a house with.

The terror that gripped her suddenly let go. The Girl blinked a few times, and she was aware that there was wetness surrounding her eyes, irritating them. She brought up a hand and quickly scrubbed the tears away, taking a few deep breaths. "L-Liam?" She asked softly, as she brushed black hairs away from her face, which had stuck thanks to her tears of fear.

"Are you alright, Phobe?" There was still worry in the mage's voice, and suddenly, she could see better. He must have lit a lantern or something before he moved to help her sit up. The girl wiped her eyes one more time as she nodded.

"I-I'm fine. J-Just a bad dream." She murmured softly, her throat still hoarse. Something cool was pressed into her hand, and she looked down. Liam had passed her a clay cup of water. Smiling in thanks, she gulped it down.

"It sounded worse than that...I thought you were being tortured or something."_ Again_the word was unspoken between them, but Phobe thought she could still hear mage absently brushed stray hairs back out of the girl's face. Phobe swatted his hand away as a reflex, though she did at least look a little apologetic. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked with worry.

The girl shook her head as she set the cup down on the bedstand. "No, I'm fine." It wasn't the first time in the past few days that she had woken up to a nightmare, after all. Ever since they returned from their Flint Mercenary contract, the group had settled into a routine; Bethany and Merril would take a morning shift at the clinic while Phobe trained with Aveline and the guards in the morning, then Fenris and Phobe would be in the clinic the afternoon, leaving Bethany and Merril to do odd jobs, the former to earn money for her household and the latter to improve life in the Alienage. After a short, hour long gap in which all five of them ate a quiet dinner, Bethany and Aveline would take the evening shift, leaving Fenris, Merril and Phobe to do bounties during the night. But nothing had involved killing so far, just tracking down missing persons or trinkets and returning them home, or beating up some thug or drunken husband. Those simple jobs meant that the three could usually return to their own homes after two or so, and Phobe could rise easily for the morning drills. In theory at least. More often than not, Liam had to wake her when she was like this.

Today, she could not join in the drills, for there was supposed to be an inspection of the guard by the Viscount, so she had thought that she could get get some extra sleep. But apparently not. "What time is it?"

"About an hour before noon." The elf replied as he stood up from the bed, one hand holding Phobe's so that he could pull her up and out of bed. "A few of your friends stopped by earlier. They're waiting in the dining room."

Phobe grimaced as she glanced at the door. "How loud was I screaming this time?" She asked absently, but Liam pat her on the shoulder.

"You weren't loud. And don't worry, the walls do not let sound out. I only heard because I went to check on you." Worry appeared on his face again. "This is the third time in three days, Phobe... Are you sure you don't want to-"

The girl shot him a little glare, as if warning him not to push the issue. "I'm fine, Liam. I'll be out in a second, just give me a minute to change." The mage looked like he wanted to push the issue, but he nevertheless left their shared room.

Neither of them had wanted to stay in the master bedroom, where Liam's leader had fallen. Though the corpses and most of the macabre decor around the house were thrown away and the evidence of dark rituals cleaned up, most of the bloodstains in that particular room had stuck despite vigorous washing. Liam had decided to just convert it into a storage room, tossing everything that he didn't want to see in it and keeping it locked. After a little thought, they had decided to share the rectangular bedroom, setting up the dressers and drawers to effectively divide the room in half. Phobe's bag sat at the end of her bed, and once her clothes finished drying, she'd stuff them into the drawers.

The girl changed into the leather armour she had taken the day before, exhaling quietly as she fiddled with the straps, trying to get them all in the right place. No easy task with her nerves frayed as they were, and it didn't help that the clasps that held the armour were confusing. Every single one of them were unfamiliar, and more than once, her long hair got caught in the straps. Eventually, she had to pause in her task to retrieve the hair elastic she left near her glasses, twisting her hair into a tight bun before she continued. At least with that distraction out of the way, she soon managed to get the armour on right. She retrieved the short sword and dagger that she had been fighting with, tying one weapon to each hip, before fixing her glasses on her face.

She took a few more calming breaths, closing her eyes as she tried to banish the dream that still lingered in her mind. It didn't really work, but she still extinguished the light at her bedstand and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her. Now that she was in the hallway, she could hear the hushed tones of conversation coming from the dining room. They sounded a little... anxious, so Phobe frowned and approached.

In the dining room, Merrill, Bethany, and Fenris were sitting around the table. There was worry in the young Hawke's eyes, but Merrill was patting her on the shoulder, trying to calm her nerves. Fenris did not speak to either of them, merely sitting with his arms crossed as he glared at the woodgrain.

"Something up?" Phobe asked, causing the three to glance up at her for a moment. Bethany nodded quickly and stood, walking around the table to stand by the realmwalker.

"You recall that my brother had planned to look for a missing woman, but didn't after what happened here." There was no accusation in her voice, but Phobe still felt a little jab of guilt. "Earlier, while Merrill and I were tending to patients in lowtown, one of the...well meaning people in town brought someone in...someone who was injured by thugs last night."

"A Templar." Merrill quipped up a little nervously. Phobe tried to ignore the chill that went down her spine as she looked over to the Dalish First, but Merrill seemed to notice it. "Oh, no, he didn't know that we were mages, I think. Or at least he didn't say anything. He mentioned he was looking for a mage that disappeared though."

"And he brought up the missing woman, Ninette." Bethany added as she fiddled with her fingertips, trying to push on despite the nervousness she felt. The realmwalker put a hand on the girl's shoulder, trying to calm her down. "Sorry... he came in when I was healing a boy with magic. I was afraid he'd catch us."

"He should've..." Fenris muttered darkly. Phobe shot a glare at him, but he didn't seem to notice.

"What's this about the missing mage? How's it connected?" The girl asked as she lead Bethany back to sit down beside Merrill.

"Well...The templar seemed to think they were. The mage disappeared like Ninette and two other women, so he thought to investigate Ninette's disappearance." Bethany withdrew a handful of scrap paper, holding it up to Phobe, who took it gently to look through the scribbles. Nothing stood out in the notes, most of them too jumbled to read, save for one line.

"'There's something about the Lowtown Foundry where Mharen's trail ended. I've got a strange feeling about it.'" She read out, a frown forming on her face. "So we're going to go there based on a hunch?"

"Templars are trained to hunt down mages; they have to develop those instincts if they are hunting those beasts." Fenris spoke up, shifting in his chair to sit more comfortably. "And, really, if a trail ends somewhere, the most logical thing to do would be to search for clues around there."

Bethany nodded, looking up at Phobe. "I can't close down the clinic for much longer, but that foundry needs to be looked at. I have to head back soon, but if you, Merrill and Fenris go check it out, maybe you'll find Ninette."

"Will you be alright with the Templar there?" Phobe asked with a frown on her face. Bethany just smiled and nodded.

"He's still unconscious. I'm sure I can think of something before he wakes up." The young Hawke sibling stated as she stood up. "Oh, and while you're out, if you could pick up some more poultice ingredients, that would be good."

"I'm sure Merril will be able to pick out some good ones." Phobe stated as she adjusted the sword at her hip, looking over to the blood mage in question, who just nodded brightly as she stood up from her seat. The girl considered asking Liam if he could take over for Merrill, as the clinic was short handed as it was, then she remembered that he had previously escaped a Circle, so she doubted he could work within the proximity of a templar easily. So she changed her line of thought. "We'll check back as soon as we can, Bethany. If we're not back in time for the afternoon shift, let Aveline know."

Eventually, the four went their separate ways, parting at the stairs of the house just outside the market. The warrior, the mage and the traveller heading to Lowtown while Bethany made her way back to Darktown. Phobe kept her eyes open as they walked, even though the streets were brightly lit and there were guards all about.

"Something wrong, Phobe?" Merrill quipped up suddenly, as they walked down the long staircase to Lowtown. The girl glanced back at the mage, before shaking her head.

"Just...not used to this place yet." Phobe replied, and Merrill gave her a small smile.

"Neither am I. Varric gave me a ball of string to get around; the streets confuse me so!"

"It's not that, Merrill, the streets don't bother me. But this place-" she made a gesture with her hand, to both the city and the sea beyond. "-This whole world, I...When I look around, it's just so different from the world I know. The faces, even the forms of the people in the crowd are unfamiliar." She let out a small sigh and adjusted her glasses with a finger. "And people look at me strangely enough..."

"I know that feeling too." Merrill smiled sadly, making Phobe fall quiet.

"...I guess we've both have something in common, huh?" The realmwalker finally said when they reached the bottom of the staircase, looking over to the Dalish elf, who simply nodded. The rest of the trip to the foundry district was quiet, and at some point, they went from walking in a line, to Fenris leading the group.

As they walked through Lowtown, Phobe tried not to think about the tall buildings, how they towered over her and cast dark shadows all over the place. At least at home, the buildings that were as tall as these were made of glass, and the sunlight could reflect them down if the angle was right. Here, she could practically see the knives hiding in the alleyways and the dark gazes of the people they passed by. Some looked to Fenris and Merrill with hate, loathing the fact that two elves were walking near them. Others watched Phobe curiously, having never seen one with her pale-yellowish skin. She was undeniably human, but not any sort of human they've ever seen; there was no China or even Asia that they knew of, let alone people of that ethnic group. Phobe tried not to feel relieved that most of the looks were directed to the elves rather than to the strange, short human; it made her feel rotten about the whole situation.

Thankfully, she didn't need to stew with her thoughts, because they arrived at the shadowed staircase of the foundry before long. Fenris looked back at the two of them, as his hand went to the broadsword on his back.

"We do not know what to expect here," he reminded them both, though he kept his eyes on Phobe, her hands already on the short blade at her side and the dagger in her pocket, "But I would suggest keeping quiet; prepare for anything; an army of thugs or blood mages with their pet demons."

"Always gotta bring up the mages, huh?" Phobe stated, though there was no bite in her voice. Her mind was already going over what was to happen. Fenris frowned at her, but he nevertheless pushed the door open.

The Foundry looked similar to what it did in the game; one large room, with a staircase leading up to the second floor. There were doors up above, and Phobe's eyes automatically went to the left side of the room. There, she could see someone leaning against the guardrails, wearing the telltale clothing of a mage. "Left and up." She muttered quietly, not loud enough to echo through the room, but both elves looked to that direction. The mage above seemed to realize that there were eyes on them, because the robed figure quickly pushed off the railing, turning on their heel and escaping out to another room. Fenris snarled and started to rush forward, only to be stopped from going up the stairs by the appearance of two shades and a desire demon.

Merrill and Phobe quickly sprung into action. The former drawing power from her magic reserves, launching a fireball at one of the shades, while the latter withdrew the blades at her sides, swinging the short sword at the other shade. It left Fenris dealing with the demon, but Phobe spared a moment's glance at the elven warrior as the shade recoiled from her blow. Considering how he was glowing with Lyrium and swinging his broadsword with a snarl on his face, he should be fine. Phobe could hear Merrill launching more magic attacks, so she focussed on the shade in front of her, slashing it with her dagger, then her sword. She kept alternating between the two weapons in the rhythm Aveline drilled into her, giving the shade no chance to return a blow.

Which would've been fine if another shade didn't pop up and attack her from the side. Phobe let out a hiss of pain as the demon's claws dug into her armour, the leather protecting her from the sharp edges, but the power behind the blow forced her back. She stepped back, resisting the urge to place a hand over the injury, as the first shade recovered from her blows while the second advanced. With one on each side, she had to work to deflect blows, giving her little chance to actually attack. Still, she worked as best as she could against them, dodging when she could and countering if she did, trying to ignore pain when she didn't. When her dagger sunk into the left shade's side one last time, she found no resistance as it dissipated into the darkness that made it up, leaving her to free to resume her rhythm on the late-arriving shade.

When she finally fell it, she glanced around the battlefield to her companions. Fenris had moved forward to attack an abomination, while Merrill had been forced to use melee attacks against a shade that had come close to her. Seeing the Dalish in more distress than the Fugitive, Phobe ran back, switching the grip she had on her weapons, and brought both her blades down at the back of the shade. It stumbled back and away from Merrill, allowing the mage to escape its immediate reach, while Phobe slashed with her right arm again, returning her dagger back to the hammer grip she had it in before. Since Merrill had already wounded it, it did not take Phobe long to bring the shade down, just as a shout from Fenris called her attention.

She glanced over to the glowy elf, realizing his shout was simply a roar of rage as he cut down the last enemy. Keeping her weapons at the ready, both she and Merrill moved over to the elf on the staircase. "We should keep moving." He stated with a frown on his face as he started up the steps. Phobe kept her eyes open, as she looked around the building.

"This is strange." She mumbled under her breath as she tried to keep her mind on her side, no doubt bruising already. "Where are the workers? Is this place closed down?"

"It is possible; an abandoned building is perfect for apostates to experiment." Fenris replied. "Or the mage we saw could've closed it down himself; those demons we fought could be summoned by sacrificing the workers."

Phobe chose not to comment, mostly because they stepped to the part of the hallway that the Mage had stood at before, only to be attacked by demons once more. This time, the realmwalker stayed at Merril's side, letting the demons come to her. Fenris charged forward again, drawing the ire of two shades, while the third glided at Phobe. She waited until about half the distance between them was crossed, before running forward with her sword held outwards at her side. She ran past the shade, slashing at it with her sword, before turning on her heel and bringing her dagger up. Merrill lobbed magic bolts past her, aiming at the demons that Fenris were busy with, leaving Phobe with the shade. Felling it was an easy matter; no second opponent to attack her from the side, and soon, the fight was over; Fenris killing his shade while Merrill brought the second down with a well aimed spirit bolt. They walked over to the doorway that the mage had disappeared into, pausing when they saw a sack on the ground, the burlap speckled darkly.

Fenris frowned deeply as he crouched down, opening the bag to examine the insides. Phobe could not see into it where she was standing, but she didn't need to. The elf pulled out a small, bloody item, looking over it carefully. "Mage, what was the description of the ring that the woman was supposed to be wearing?"

Merrill frowned quietly, trying to remember. "Um... It is made of gold, with a sapphire gem set into it." She recalled, causing Fenris to sigh and stand up, picking up the bag.

"...Looks like we've found her then." He replied, before dropping the ring back into the bag. "Come, we best look around to see if we can find anything else."

Twenty minutes, and another fight with demons later, they determined that the foundry was clear of any mages or murdered individuals. The mage had vanished, leaving an irritated frown on Fenris' face. They looted the corpses of the demons and abominations as quickly as they could, relieving them of any and all interesting items, as well as the containers they came across. Only a chest that none of them could unlock did they leave behind, and as they stood outside the factory, a sigh passed through Phobe's lips.

"...We'd best check up on that Templar. Maybe he can shed some light on what we found." Phobe suggested as they walked down the stairs.

"A enough good idea as any." Fenris muttered, no doubt still upset over what they discovered. They made their way through the streets of Lowtown, moving quickly to head underground into the Dark.  
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"Why are you watching me like that?" Fenris suddenly snapped out, and Phobe looked up. They had been walking through Darktown for several minutes now, navigating their way through the dark and the filth. For a moment, she was puzzled, but then Merrill quipped up.

"You have vallaslin. The same marking the Dalish have."

"Yours are not made of Lyrium." Fenris replied bitterly, but Merrill merely shrugged as she stepped forward to walk beside the other elf, leaving Phobe to walk behind the two.

"No, they're made of blood. Our blood." She stated with a small, friendly smile on her face. "That's what vallaslin means: blood writing. It's a mark of adulthood."

The etched elf snorted "Mine were carved in my flesh against my will, in a ritual I remember only for the agony it caused me."

The reply was like a verbal slap to Merrill's face, and she meekly apologized. It was at this time Phobe stepped up and spoke. "So what does the blood writing show?" She asked, glancing at Fenris who looked like he was about to snap at the other elf again. She walked to the other side of Merrill, so that the mage would have to look away from Fenris to talk to her.

"Oh, I-It reminds us of who we are." Merrill replied, "And it reminds us to never surrender our beliefs and traditions. Do you know much about the Dalish?" Merrill's eyes shined a little, though Phobe didn't notice as she shook her head.

By the time they reached the clinic, Phobe's ears had been talked off by Merrill, who was explaining as much as she could about her people to the realmwalker, her previous conversation with Fenris completely forgotten. Fenris only looked at Phobe with amused smirk on his face, as if to say 'that's what you get for helping her out.' That smug attitude was what caused the girl to listen to Merrill without interrupting. At least until they stepped in front of the clinic. "Look, Merrill, I'm sorry to interrupt, but we've got a job to do." Phobe stated.

Merrill's eyes looked as though she were a kicked puppy. Phobe tried not to wince, but thankfully, the Dalish elf recovered. "Oh, okay. I'll tell you more later."

_Shit_. Phobe thought, before forcing the dread out of her mind. "Alright. But for now, you need to stay back here; until that Templar is unconscious again, we'd best keep you out of sight."

"I'll pull Bethany away," Fenris stated, passing the bloodied bag to Phobe, "you should work to wake up the templar."

The elf and the human entered the clinic, and Phobe's eyes were drawn around. The first time she saw the state of the small little hospital, her heart had practically torn itself apart with a dilemma. So many injured people, and she had no fucking idea how to treat them; neither did Fenris at that point, but a quick crash course with two of the assistants had helped with that problem. But that first shift was more than enough to show her just how bad Anders had it, working in this situation.

Phobe navigated her way through the clinic, keeping her eyes open for the telltale armour of a Templar. She soon found it after a quick peek behind a few draped sheets, hung for privacy...or to keep the templar from seeing magic around him. Probably both, considering he was awake and the state of his injuries. There was a sheet over his lower body, but his torso was completely wrapped up with bandages, and she could see a few red spots. The templar looked up at her, and Phobe stepped into the enclosed space.

"Can I help you?" He asked with a frown on his face, examining her armour; the damage and blood making it clear she wasn't a guard of the clinic.

"My name is Phobe," she started slowly, collecting what she was going to say, "I'm one of the people who work here at this clinic; I work a different shift than the others, but you mentioned a missing persons case that we have been looking into." She pulled the privacy sheets behind her, to cover the little area that could be seen behind her. The Templar looked warily at this action, but he did not move yet.

"Yes. I've been looking into the disappearance of several women...It's been a waste of time so far; one of them, Ninette, supposedly just left her husband. Leads on the case have been difficult to get; I was trying a new one when I was attacked by thugs." He instead explained, though he kept a cautious eye on Phobe.

"We looked into your notes, you mentioned a foundry in them, and we decided to take a look." Phobe stated as she walked over to the Templar's bedside, pulling the sack out from behind her. "This was left inside," she explained as the older man opened the bag, and only now could she see what she was carrying; a sack full of flesh and bones, the sight of which she looked away from "a-and we were attacked by demons when we entered; shades and abominations."

The templar examined the bones inside, frowning deeply. "These are human bones..." He sighed, before tightening the rope to seal the bag shut, looking up at Phobe."Then there is no chance of finding Mharen alive...Or any of the others."

"I'm sorry, Messere." She sighed as she gently took the sack back, "We saw someone escape the from the foundry, but we couldn't pursue them."

The injured man's eyes closed. "That is more than I accomplished. I could not even fight off a few thugs in my age." He replied softly, but nevertheless, he looked up at Phobe. "I will bring this to the city guard as soon as I am able. It should be enough to convince them that these disappearances are worth investigating."

"I can do that, Ser Templar. You need to recover." The girl stated, before glancing at the bag. "Besides, I'll most likely have to give a statement anyways."

"Very well...Just tell them that Emeric of the Templars vouches for you beforehand." The templar reached to the side, grabbing a small bag from his belongings. "Thank you for bringing this to me. Here is coin for your assistance." He stated, before pressing a few golden circles and a handful of silver into Phobe's hand.

"Thank you, Messere." She lowered her head, before frowning a little. "Though I do not think that I should be rewarded just yet. The one who killed these women is still out there." And I already know who this bastard is. She thought bitterly to herself...though she could not voice it. Not yet. Not without proof.

"You have done enough for now, young one." Emeric stated. "If I find another lead, I will contact you...I do not think I can do this for much longer myself." The older human lay down in his cot, sighing. "I suppose I must rest now, if I am to get better. Good day, Serah Phobe."

"To you as well." She stated, before slipping out of the space, holding both bag and coins tightly in her hands. The girl walked out of the clinic and over to a corner where she could see her companions.

"Well?" Fenris stated, looking at her.

"He's been informed, and he paid us." She stated as she passed one of the gold coins over to Merrill, who tucked it into her pocket with a smile on her face, and one to Bethany.

"Oh,-" she started, but a look from Phobe quieted any protests she might have had. "Thank you, Phobe."

"I'm going to the guards, I need to talk to Aveline about this." Phobe replied, as she tossed the last gold coin coin to Fenris, who caught it deftly in one hand. The handful of silver, which she decided to count later, went into her coin pouch, which was zipped up immediately afterwards. "Then I'll go to the guy who hired us to find his wife in the first place, tell him his wife's fate. Fenris, do you think you can help out in the clinic? It looks like it'll be busy today."

"Fine." The elf stated as he shifted the sword on his back. "But hurry back afterwards. I'd rather not be left alone after the third hour."

"We'll stay and help!" Merrill smiled brightly.

"Even worse." was the warrior's dry remark as he headed back to the Clinic.

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The rest of the day passed in a blur. The meeting with Aveline and her guards went as well as one would expect, especially since she set the bag of remains (Phobe having removed the ring with disgust) on Aveline's desk, causing one of the younger guards to nearly go sick... and Aveline looked at her as if she expected Phobe to do the same. The girl just explained the situation, and the Guard Captain assured her that they would look into it.

The meeting with Ninette's husband ended with a bloodied sapphire ring remaining in her pouch, a gold coin joining it, and Ghyslain with a punched stomach. Phobe tried not to shout at the man, wondering why the hell he would care more about what her family thought than the fact that his wife was gone. He simply glared at her and left. After that, Phobe just returned to the clinic to help out. All four of them, Fenris, Bethany, Merrill and Phobe, stayed in the clinic until evening, a steady rush of patients keeping them occupied throughout the day. Only once the sun was setting were they allowed to leave.

They arrived in the Hanged Man, pushing past the busy and bustling crowd to Varric's room, where they always retreated. They settled into their chairs, Bethany laying her head on the table in her exhaustion. A few seconds later, she started to snore.

"Can we not go for bounties tonight?" Merrill asked as she rested her chin on her hands, eyes drooping. "I'm tired..."

"As am I..." Fenris muttered as he rubbed sleep out of his own. "But we all need the money to survive."

"I think...Aveline has the right idea. Of actually having a_ job_." Phobe quipped up, her head leaning back against the chair. "Granted, our credentials all suck." The girl held up a hand, as if she was writing something. "Name: Phobetor, Current Occupation: Mercenary, References: A fuckton of dead guys. But I can _assure_you they deserved it."

Merrill let out a small laugh, and even Fenris smiled a little. "I do not think anyone would hire us if that is all we had to describe our work. Unless Aveline is looking for more guards."

"Even if I was, that sort of resume would not work well." The mentioned captain stated curtly. Phobe lifted her head to see Aveline glaring right at her. "Phobe, I need to have a talk with you. Now." The girl opened her mouth, as if to object, and the captain walked over to pick her up. "I said now." She frowned before dragging Phobe out of chair and through the room.

"Agh...I can walk myself, Aveline!" The girl stated, but her protests went unheeded as the guardswoman brought her to one of the isolated, smaller rooms to the side. Phobe vaguely recognized it as a storeroom, mainly because Aveline picked her up and plopped her onto a crate.

"Liam told me you have been having nightmares, Phobe." The guardswoman stated as she leaned against the door, blocking the only way out. . He wouldn't tell me what about; he doesn't know apparently. And you dropped a bag of human remains on my desk without even blinking."

"I'd like to think that those two things are unrelated." The girl frowned as she crossed her arms, her eyebrow quirked. "And I got over the whole shock of it."

"I don't think you did." Aveline replied curtly, before sighing. "Phobe. I know for a fact that killing is not easy. Especially for someone who isn't trained to deal with it. It does you no good to bottle it up and-"

"What, would you rather I puke every time I kill someone?"

"Yes, actually." The guard's lips were a thin line and she looked at Phobe carefully. "Because then you would actually be reacting. If you don't want to do that, then at least talk about it with us."

"Aveline, I'm fine."

"No, you're not, Phobe. And until you talk to me, I'm not letting you out of this room." Phobe remained quiet, so the ex-soldier sighed, thinking carefully for a moment. "You mentioned before that it didn't seem like any of this has...sunk in. That everything feels like you're dreaming. Has it sunk in yet?"

"I...guess?" Phobe frowned a little. "What does this have to do with-"

"And you're still not feeling anything?"

"I am. I'm getting used to everything..." The girl looked down, sighing.

"...What are your nightmares about?" Aveline asked, looking at the realmwalker.

"It's nothing. They were just a few bad dreams." A dark look from Aveline made Phobe sigh. "Fine. I keep dreaming that I'm at home, then home disappears, and I'm on a spire in the pits of hell, being dragged down by the people I've killed. Happy?"

"Not really." Phobe nearly through her hands up, but Aveline sighed. "It is a start though. I just want to help you; killing isn't something that's easy... Have you considered something else? I could talk to some people, maybe find some work that doesn't involve fighting."

Phobe let out a small sigh. "Aveline, the reason that I'm doing all this is because I'm after the guy who brought me here. I can't... I can't rely on you, or Hawke, or anyone else for that. I'm not going to sit on my ass and expect that mage guy to just fall from the sky and send me home with a pat on the head." She rubbed the bridge of her nose before looking up. "Remember what I said back when this whole nonsense started? If it were you, would you sit behind and let others find the truth or the solution for you?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Exactly. I need to do this, Aveline. Besides, I owe Hawke, Bethany, and the rest of you for helping me so far. I'm not going to back out because of a few nightmares."

The guardswoman sighed before nodding. "Alright, Phobe. I'll let it go for now. But please, talk to someone about this. If not me, then Liam or someone else you can trust. One of the first things that they teach you in the army is that you can't bottle this sort of thing up. If you try, you'll only go mad." Aveline stepped back so that she could open the door. "Now come on, we'd best get something to eat. It's been a long day for all of us, I'm sure."

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So, I'm going to have a poll up, to determine who Hawke's LI will be. If there is an option you guys think I should add that isn't standard, just let me know and I'll put it up.


	7. Shoot your Pet Peeves

I don't know how I went from no updates at all for over a year, to three in about a two weeks.

This chapter is pretty dialogue heavy, and a minor trigger warning: I really don't like religion, and it will show when it comes to Phobe.

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After the events of the day at the Foundry, time seemed to move much slower. Whatever had caused the influx of refugees in the clinic had trickled down to a quiet pace, allowing for quiet, peaceful days. Phobe found herself settling into the routine once more; training in the morning, clinic in the afternoon, and bounties in the evening. It was almost comforting, and the work at the evening made good enough income for her. Liam had worked to supplement with his skills in potion crafting, gathering ingredients when he could and selling the potions for cheaper than what the Circle offered. It wasn't much, but it was all they could do, especially since they were still waiting for the return of Hawke and the others. The group had to keep a quiet, low profile, especially considering they harbored not one, but three apostates.

Phobe noticed that Liam was getting more and more comfortable with the small group they had. Before, he would just nudge her awake before retreating into the study that he had claimed, presumably to work on his magical studies or the potions he sold. She usually wouldn't see him for the rest of the day. Now, she found herself having a small breakfast together with the mage, often joined by Aveline who came to pick Phobe up, where they would all just idly chat about nothing at all. When she had to leave, he would wave and bid her and the guardwoman a good day.

Today was no different. Four days had passed since the Foundry incident, and she found herself sitting to a modest meal with the elven apostate. Aveline wasn't present, no doubt the guard was at the Hanged Man, having taken the day off.

Phobe set down two bowls of rice between her and Liam, who smiled in thanks. "Aveline's not joining us today?" He asked curiously as the realmwalker brought a larger bowl of stewed tomato and egg to the table.

"No. She's going out of town with Bethany and Merrill," the girl replied as she sat down, giving Liam time to spoon a generous portion onto his rice. Once he had finished, she took the spoon from him to get some for herself. "The guards have been getting reports of a small ship of slavers off the Wounded Coast. And since the clinic has been quiet, they figured they'd close it down for today and take them down for the bounty the Viscount set."

"Oh...So are you going to do jobs around town or stay home today?" The mage asked, swirling the sauce into his rice before taking a large mouthful.

"Neither. One of the off duty guards, Donnic, offered to teach me some archery today after drills. He also offered to train Fenris, so I'm going to head over to his house after breakfast." Phobe replied, her eyes on her food as she ate. For some odd reason, the image of Fenris with an arrow in his knee popped up in her mind, back when they dealt with the Flint Mercenaries. She could still remember his reaction.

_"Phobe!" He had growled as he ripped the arrow out, either from anger or pain. His eyes were not on the enemy charging forward, but on the realmwalker, fixed in a furious glare. "Don't ever give enemies ideas ever again!" He paid for his lack of attention when a mace crashed into his head. Thankfully, Bethany healed him shortly after._

A small smile formed on Phobe's face at the memory, caught by Liam.

"You must be good friends with Fenris." He commented with an eyebrow quirked. Phobe was pulled out of the memory, looking at the mage in disbelief.

"Are you kidding me? Guy's a complete nutjob." The elven apostate continued to look at her suspiciously. "He has a massive pole up his ass about... a lot of things, actually. We can barely stand each other, and its a miracle he hasn't tried to cleave my head off yet."

"I've had the urge, it's true." Phobe jumped at the voice, and she quickly turned in her seat to see Fenris standing in the doorway, broadsword on his back and arms crossed over his chest. "What, might I ask, is a 'nutjob'?"

"Er... I didn't hear you come in. What are you doing here so early?" The girl asked as Liam somehow disappeared from the table, leaving her to her embarassment.

"Aveline suggested that I join you for breakfast." The fugitive stated as he stepped away from the doorway towards the table, frowning a little. "And you did not answer my question."

"Well...A nutjob is basically a crazy person. Eccentric or mad." Phobe replied a little quietly. Fenris glared at her, so she quickly changed the subject. "Hope you don't mind tomatoes. They were cheap yesterday." The elf didn't take the bait.

"Do you think I am mad, given my circumstances?" He stated as he sat down at the table. Liam had returned by now, setting a bowl of rice beside the ex-slave, before returning to his seat.

Phobe tried not to think too long on her answer. "Hey, I think a lot of people are crazy in this realm. And in my own." She shrugged a shoulder as she passed the sauce spoon to Fenris, who took it after a moment. "Anyone would go insane in your circumstances, I think. Its a wonder you can cope."

"Really." Fenris stated with disbelief in his voice. Phobe just shrugged, but thankfully, the conversation stopped while the three of them ate. At least for about ten minutes "...What about your own?"

"Hm?" Phobe looked up, a mouth full of rice and tomato.

"Do you think one could stay sane in your own circumstances?" The fugitive's eyes were on her, and she could tell that even Liam was listening curiously.

"What, the whole 'pulled out from my quiet little world by a psychopath, forced to adapt to a world where everything you know is completely different, to the point where you can regularly expect to kill people for coin or survival' thing?" Phobe let out a small laugh, before shrugging. "Probably not. Takes a certain mindset to deal with that, which I doubt I have."

"A certain mindset?" Liam quipped up, scraping the edges of his bowl with his spoon for the last bits of rice.

"Yeah. To be able to cope with all this sort of bullshit. I don't think I got it." Phobe shrugged. "I mean, I still have nightmares, and I guess I'm kinda afraid that I'd just give up."

The realmwalker shrugged as she continued to eat. Liam watched her for a few moments, before speaking up softly, grey eyes lowering to his bowl. "Well, you don't have to face it alone, Phobe. We're here to help."

There was a small, crooked smile on Phobe's face as she looked to the elven apostate. "I know. I'm lucky that I have you, Hawke, Aveline, even the glowy asshole ("Hey!" Fenris fixed a glare on Phobe) over here." _And I'm lucky I have some direction, an idea of what's to come._she thought, but she didn't say. "In terms of coping with the issue, I have it easy. And I'm thankful for that."

Liam had a warm smile on his face, as he glanced back up to Phobe. "...I think that you guys should go soon. Dawn'll break in a few minutes."

Phobe blinked and looked out at the window, recognizing the first signs of light. "Oh shit." She stood up, and finished off what was in her bowl. Fenris also scrambled to finish his food, and the realmwalker took the dirty dishes to a nearby basin, where she quickly started to wash them clean. Once she finished, the girl walked over to the doorway, where her sword was leaned against, and picked it up to tie to her belt. "See you later, Liam." She called back, to the friend who was pushing the chairs back in.

"Take care, Phobe" The elven mage replied, giving the departing realmwalker and fugitive a wave.

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"You know what?" Phobe muttered as she lay on the dusty ground of the training yard, in the shadow of the Viscount's Keep. "I take back what I said at breakfast. That whole culture shock bullshit isn't going to break me. I should've gone on a rant about the training."

Fenris chuckled a little as he nudged Phobe's ribs with the end of his wooden sword. "Come on, get up. We're almost done."

"Fuck you, Glowy McMurderpants." She groaned, but nevertheless complied. "Why am I training with you again? You're stupidly strong, swinging around a sword the size of you, and I'm someone who spent the past few years of her life ignoring physical activity in favor of drawing or writing."

"I believe it's because we fight alongside each other, so we should know each other's strengths and weaknesses, thus allowing us to work together better on the battlefield." The elf dryly remarked, repeating word-for-word what the instructor said when Phobe voiced her complaint earlier, as he stepped back to ready himself for the next sparring match. "Or it could be because I need to pay you back for that ah... 'nutjob' comment."

"I hate you. So fucking much." Phobe groaned as she rolled her shoulders, preparing for the next bout. They gave each other ten seconds to prepare, before both launched into combat. Despite her whining though, Phobe held out for...about a minute, actually and that was mainly due to the warrior's generosity. He blocked each of the attacks that she gave him, using the rhythm that Aveline taught her before, and when she moved to switch it up by stepping in close to attack, he promptly smacked her across the face with the flat side of his sword, his force strong enough to knock her back down on the ground. "Damn you. Just... Damn. You." The realmwalker quipped up weakly. She didn't even need to look up to know there was a smug smirk on Fenris' face.

"Alright, that's enough you two." A guardsman walked over to them, a chuckle passing between his lips. Phobe shot a glare up at Donnic, who simply smiled at her as she slowly stood up, fixing her glasses on her face. "We best start on those archery lessons now. Before Phobe here tries to murder you."

"You mean try and fail." The warrior chuckled as he gave the wooden sword back to the guard.

"Fuck you, Fenris. Fuck you _in the eye_." The girl shot her best death glare at the warrior, who merely headed to the archery range. She flipped him off behind his back, not giving a single damn about how childish it looked. At least until Donnic frowned disapprovingly at her. Then she stopped and followed the elf.

"Alright, so I'm not sure how much training either of you two have had in archery, so I'll start with the basics; the stance." Donnic stated, as he walked to the two. As time slowly passed, Phobe was reminded a little about the archery lesson she had back in high school. Donnic was good at teaching, perhaps because he had already taught other guards on this subject, even if he prefered melee weapons.

Phobe spared a glance at the guard and the elf, the former fixing the latter's stance. The elf either looked embarrassed at being treated like a child, Donnic explaining slowly and carefully, or annoyed that he was being touched while Donnic adjusted his stance. It was clear that Fenris had never held a bow in his life, whereas at least Phobe had some experience. The girl turned her attention back to her target, a bullseye about twenty meters away. In the fifteen minutes that Fenris' stance was being fixed, she had already fired several times, the arrows going wild. Only in the last five minutes had she actually hit the target, and even then, she never hit near the center.

At least her stance was good. Phobe tried to focus as she aimed again, arrow notched and ready for fire. She took a deep breath and-

"Saemus!" A voice barked out, jolting Phobe as she let go of the arrow, causing it to fly at the target. She turned to look at the source of the noise, a frown on her face. "Have you learned nothing from your last trip outside?" Two men were walking through the courtyard, one much older and wearing a circlet on his bald head. The younger, who was frowning deeply, had a full head of hair and wore brighter finery than the Viscount. "You were nearly killed on the coast and I-"

"The only danger I was in was from your mercenaries, father." Saemus' voice had as much anger as his father's, and he walked faster. "So long as you do not send more after me, I am sure I will be fine."

"The Qunari are-"

"The Kossith have no hand in this. If you forget, it was a hunter who brought this to our attention. He mentioned nothing of the Qunari."

"Then let the guards handle this! I forbid you from going out to the Planasene Forest, Saemus." The Viscount and his son were close now, so Phobe focused on setting a new arrow in her bow.

"The forest is not entirely under our rule, Father, if we send out our-" The voices paused, as Phobe lifted her bow, trying to focus on having the proper stance. "Excuse me? Serah elf?"

"What?" Fenris' voice barked from beside her, and the realmwalker decided it was safe to look over at her companion.

"You were one of the ones who rescued me from the mercenaries, right?" Seamus asked as he walked over beside Fenris. Donnic had stepped back as the elf straightened up out of the archery stance.

"Yes. I was with Hawke at the time."

"Excellent." The Viscount stepped forward, looking at Saemus for a moment, before returning his eyes to the fugitive slave. "Could you perhaps inform us where Serah Hawke is?"

"He's out of town on business." Phobe replied, causing the Viscount to look back at her over his shoulder. She made sure to keep her eyes on the target, letting an arrow fly free, thankfully hitting the target again. "He will not be back for another few weeks. Is something the matter, Messere?"

"Yes. A hunter came to us recently about a series of disappearances in the Planasene Forest, close to Kirkwall. He asked the guard to investigate with him, but my son here believes that he should go instead of trained professionals."

At this, the young son spoke up. "If the guards go too far into the forest, they risk entering Nevarra by approaching Cumberland."

His father shot another angry glare at Saemus. "The Nevarrans will never know! The Vimmark mountains separate us from them."

"Um...excuse me, Messeres." Phobe quipped up to interrupt their fighting, stepping up out of the archery stance. "Might I suggest that you both calm down?" She glanced around the yard meaningfully, and Saemus and his father did the same. On the edges of the courtyard, maids and guards were listening intently, just as Phobe expected. Both were mollified, the girl took advantage of their quiet. "Perhaps you can set out a bounty then? The same as you have for several other issues? A few of our companions went out to take care of that slaver ship just off the coast, for example."

The viscount seemed to have calmed down; perhaps the sight of others watching him quieted him. "Hm... I have a better idea." He looked to Fenris now, turning away from Phobe. "I am willing to hire you and your companions to investigate this. There is gold in it for you."

"I am coming as well, father." Saemus spoke up again, looking at the Viscount. "The hunter begged that the matter be given the utmost attention, and what better sign of faith than to allow the Viscount's son to go along."

"They may not be able to protect you, Saemus."

"I can protect myself, father." The young man turned on his heel and walked off, leaving no time for his father to dispute his words. The old Viscount shook his head, sighing.

"If any harm comes to my son...I will have your heads."

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Phobe sighed softly, slumped in her seat as she rubbed at the bridge of her nose. The Gilded Corner Club was as hoity-toity as the name implied, and would not be Phobe's first choice for anything. The doorways, crown molding, and even some booth backings, were delicately covered in a fine layer of gold...though Phobe figured that it was probably just metallic paint. All the seats, either chairs or booths, even sofas and their pillows were laid out, were all covered with a crimson satin, and the barmaids wore elegant tavern dresses, walking between tables to grant fine drinks to their customers.

The Corner Club also had an entrance fee of five sovereigns, which was thankfully waived for them since the Viscount had insisted they meet his son and their hunter here instead of the Hanged Man, and a quick check at watching someone pay for a simple ale showed the realmwalker that this high class club in Hightown milked their patrons for every last coin they could.

"Is it too late to back out of this?" Phobe muttered as she glanced in the direction of the front door, ignoring a disgusted look one of the servers tossed at her. She hardly cared what they thought of the leather armour she was wearing, after all. She had no interest in being a patron here. "I mean, really, why couldn't we meet them outside or something?"

"It was the Viscount's request." Fenris reminded the girl as he idly twirled the neck of a wine glass in his fingertips, spared from the looks of others since he was sitting further in the booth, relaxing against the soft seats. "You may as well enjoy this while you can. I highly doubt that we will be able to return here."

"If I never come back here, that would be too soon." Phobe sighed as she slumped down against the seat, discreetly reaching into one of the pouches on her belt to withdraw a small square. Carefully, she unwrapped the headphones from around the device, and took one of the nubs in her hand. A quick glance around showed that no one was looking their direction as Phobe tucked a bud in her ear.

"What are you doing?" Fenris asked as he observed her, reaching over to pick up the other headphone that was dangling on the side.

"Listening to music. We've been sitting here for about fifteen minutes, and there's no sign that they're coming soon, so I may as well." She replied softly as she glanced down, thumb moving in a circle to navigate through the songs that she had. She didn't notice Fenris mimicking her, tucking the bud in his own ear.

"I'm not-" He was stopped when she pressed play, and the heavy sound of a drum started. He jumped in surprise, before pulling the bud out of his ear to look at it strangely. "...What sort of magic is this?"

"No magic, now either put it down or keep listening. I'd rather not draw attention to it." Phobe muttered as she tucked the music player back in the pouch, leaning back and sighing. Fenris complied after a few moments, tucking the earbud back in his elongated one.

"...I've never heard these sort of...instruments before." He muttered softly. "I recognize the drum, but nothing else."

"Yeah, there were a lot of advancements in that industry. Lutes and stuff are things of the past. Guitars, bass and keyboards are more common in my world now."

Conversation paused as the two listened to the music for about a minute or so. Then Fenris let out a soft chuckle. "Did I hear that right? 'He had to fight the tears of rage, his heart beat like a drum...'"

Phobe chuckled and nodded. "For with the wife of his best friend, he spent his final night of freedom. First time I heard this, I couldn't stop laughing for about five minutes." She smiled a little, before glancing over to the door again. Still no one, so she settled down and just continued to listen, humming along quietly.

"...It is a good song." Fenris commented as the chorus repeated near the end, mixing with the last solo. Phobe merely nodded, her thumb on the next button, not interested in hearing the drifting sounds. Fenris twitched when the new song came on, the sounds of a saxophone filling his ear now. "...It changed." His voice was perplexed, and he was looking at the device curiously.

"I just went to the next song. It was over anyways. This is an instrumental; I can skip it if you want."

He paused to listen to the soft, quieter song, a small frown forming on his face. "Do you have another similar to that one? The Over the Hills one?"

"Yeah, give me a second." She murmured as she pulled the device out of her pocket, thumbing through her list of songs, before she finally pressed to play another. The slow sax ended, swapping to a high energy, fast beat song with a high-pitched male singer.

The two sat in an odd peace for a while, simply sitting and listening to the music. Phobe found that Fenris had an odd preference to the songs heavy on guitar or drums or both, often asking if there was another if the shuffle changed it to a softer melody. After three more songs, Phobe finally saw the one that they were waiting for. Saemus had changed out of his royal clothing for a dark, gleaming heavy armour and he was accompanied by two individuals. One, she found that she recognized, but the other must have been the hunter. He had dark skin, typical of Rivani in this world, and his black hair hung loosely at the collar of his well oiled leather armour, and there were three parallel scars that ran across the bridge of his nose, under his right eye and disappearing into his hairline. Phobe quickly thumbed the center button, holding it so the device shut itself off. Fenris frowned when the music stopped, but he followed her gaze and understood. As the elf raised an arm to call to the three, Phobe moved to wrap the headphones around the device once more, stuffing it in her pouch.

"Greetings." Seamus stated when they approached, Phobe zipping up the bag on her hip just in time and glancing up. "I apologize for the delay. An acquaintance of mine heard about the situation and insisted that he help. Allow me to introduce the hunter, Serah Izador Aren." The Rivani inclined his head as Seamus continued. "And this is-"

"We have already met." The Scottish (or rather, Starkhaven) accented voice spoke up, and Sebastian stepped forward, his hands tucked behind his back as he looked to Phobe. "It is good to see you again, Serah Phobe. I suppose I should not be surprised to see you here."

"I can't exactly say the same for you, Messere." Phobe replied as she adjusted the glasses on her nose with a finger as the hunter and the viscount's son sat down across from them. "I would have expected that the Grand Cleric would forbid you from leaving after the Mercenary incident."

"Actually, she suggested that I come along. Thought that I could do some good to repent for the deaths I caused." Sebastian replied, glancing over to his companions now. "Serahs Phobe and Fenris were the ones who dealt with the job that I spoke of, along with a few of their friends."

"Can we stop with the titles?" Izador spoke up now, his low voice gruff as he studied Fenris for a few moments, before his gaze shifted to Phobe. "I'm thinking her name is Sarah now."

The girl nodded in agreement as she shifted a little bit closer to Fenris to give Sebastian a place to sit, which he took with a nod of thanks. No sooner did he sit down did a barmaid come over, leaning against the table. "May I get you gentlemen something to drink?" She asked, green eyes shifting from Sebastian to Saemus.

"Nothing for me." Sebastian replied, and Seamus nodded in agreement.

"Ale, if you got it." Izador spoke up, and the barmaid's nose crinkled. Nevertheless, she stood up and away from the table to retrieve the requested drink.

Once she was gone, Phobe looked over to the hunter. "Aren, right?" A nod came from the hunter, so the realmwalker continued on. "The Viscount did not tell us much about this job. Mind giving a few details? All we know is that there are a few disappearances in the forest."

"Not much to tell. Every now and then for the past few years, a hunter won't return from the forest. Sometimes they never turn back up," The hunter paused as a flaggon of booze was set down in front of him none too gently. He flicked a coin at the barmaid without even looking at her and continued. "Yesterday, I found an old friend of mine. She was missing for about half a year now, and I took a look at her corpse. She was filled full of arrows, from what I could tell, so I figure someone's been hunting hunters. I asked the Viscount to look into it, since it's been going on for a while."

"If that's been the case, why have you only brought it up now? Why not when your friend went missing?" Phobe frowned a little. Izador merely shrugged.

"It wasn't my business before, and less competition made it easier. For all I know, she could've headed off somewhere else; joined the fight against the Blight or something." The hunter replied before taking a long draught from his mug. He set it back down and rubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand.

The realmwalker kept a frown, but decided to drop the topic for now. She heard a soft sound beside her; Fenris had just finished off his wine. "Alright. Where exactly in the forest are we going?"

"Where I found her; about three hours walk after leaving from Kirkwall. Game on the edge of the forest isn't usually good, too skinny; you gotta go in deep."

Phobe sighed, and leaned back in her seat, looking between Sebastian and Saemus. "And both of you are coming?" She asked, adjusting her glasses again. The Son of the Viscount detected the disapproval in her voice.

"You suggest otherwise? We would be safer in numbers." Saemus pointed out. Fenris let out a small laugh.

"You are the son of the Viscount of Kirkwall; no doubt well known throughout the region. And its quite obvious your armour is expensive." The elf stated, his arms crossed over his chest as he relaxed in the seat.

"Same thing with you, Sebastian. You're...bright. A sore thumb on the trail. Bandits might think to attack us on your armour alone." Phobe added, not bothering to even bring up the silly belt buckle he wore. "Travelling with one 'royal' is dangerous enough, but two?"

"Then you suggest that one of us is left behind?" Sebastian frowned, clearly against the idea. Phobe sighed as she rubbed the back of her neck.

"Unless one of you changes into less conspicuous gear, preferably Saemus since people would recognize him, then yes." Phobe replied. The two stayed quiet, before the Viscount's son sighed, nodding.

"Alright. I can ask one of the guards; he's a friend who I know has a spare set of squire armour." Saemus stood up, and Izador moved out of the way to let him out. "I will be back soon then."

"Fenris, you want to go with him, make sure he doesn't get shanked in the middle of the street?" Phobe asked as the Viscount's son walked away. The elf frowned, clearly comfortable sitting where he was.

"I'll follow." Izador grumbled, finishing off his drink before he stood. "Don't trust him to run with his tail between his legs anyways." With that, the hunter walked after the noble, disappearing beyond the doors.

Silence filled the booth now, though Phobe nudged Sebastian a little, indicating he should sit on the free side. He complied, and soon, he was settled across from Phobe and Fenris. His eyes were on the girl, and there was a smile on his face.

"...Why are you staring at me like that?" She asked suspiciously, her own brown orbs fixed in a glare.

"I am honoured to fight alongside you, Serah Phobe." Sebastian stated, his head dipping for a moment. Apparently it was formal or polite, but Phobe's frown just grew. "You are a good person. Blessed by the Maker with a kind heart."

Instantly, Phobe felt a twitch coming on, though she managed to suppress it. Right. Apparently, he's a Maker fanatic. How could she forget that? She took a small breath before she replied, ignoring the bemused curious look on Fenris' face. "I'm not really." She muttered, shrugging her shoulders. "Like I said before, it was just a job."

"You refused payment after retrieving a memento of mine." Sebastian pointed out, his hands clasping together on the table like the pompous pious prick he was. "It was not part of the job; I did not expect it back."

"Look, I said before, it's nothing. You don't have to thank me." She replied, hoping her tone indicated she wanted the conversation to end. " And just call me Phobe, please. Unless you'd rather I call you Messere Vael all the time."

"No, Sebastian is fine." He smiled, looking towards Fenris now. "Is it alright if I simply refer to you as Fenris?"

"Of course. Would be difficult to call out to an ally in combat otherwise." Fenris replied with a smirk. The Prince simply nodded, and the table fell quiet for a few minutes. Phobe tried not to think about how awkward the silence was, focussing instead on her mind, searching through her brain to see if she knew anything about the Forest. Fenris glanced at her, or rather, her pouch, as if hoping she would take out the music device again if only to break the silence.

Thankfully, or rather not, Sebastian spoke up again. "Have you two been in Kirkwall for very long?"

"No." "Nope."

"I suppose I am not surprised; I have never seen either of you at the Chantry before. But neither of you look like refugees." Phobe just shrugged at the comment.

"We're not. Circumstance just landed us here."

"Yes. Circumstance." Fenris idly twirled his empty wine glass between his fingers. Phobe didn't know if that was a jab at the fact that she was summoned, or that he was hunted.

"What sort, if you don't mind me asking?" The Starkhaven heir asked. His eyes were on Fenris for a moment, before they shifted over to the realmwalker, clearly curious, but the girl stood up before answering, her head shaking.

"Actually I do. Now if you'll excuse me, I need some air." She stated as she stepped away from the table, sighing irritably.

_Great. So we get to go hunting with two royals. Fuuuun..._

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Phobe had been standing outside the Gilded Corner Club for about half an hour. She passed the time by just watching the people on the street, waiting to see if Fenris or Sebastian would step out first or if the Viscount's child would return. At some point, she had taken her dagger out of it's sheath, and idly worked to twirl it in her hand. More than once, she crouched down to pick it up again.

Sebastian stepped out first, and Phobe tried not to sigh as she straightened, her dagger in hand now. "Saemus isn't back yet. You may as well head back in." She suggested. Sebastian shook his head.

"Are you all right, Phobe? You seemed a little...uneasy earlier." The man looked down at her, and she shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't like places like that." She gestured with her head to the corner club the prince just exited. It was a better truth than what she had in mind. "Even the servers turn their nose up at you."

"True...Though you seemed to be fine with it until I started to speak to you. Is there something the matter?" He looked a little worried, so Phobe shook her head.

"Eh. Like I said earlier, I didn't do anything special in giving you back something that belongs to you. You made a big deal out of nothing, so that just...made me a little uncomfortable."

"My apologies. I did not intend to. I simply did not expect such kindness. I should have rewarded you. As the Chant says: 'Blessed are they who stand before, The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed be the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.'" The Prince recanted, not quite noticing that the girl was gripping her dagger tightly. He smiled a little, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "And I'm surprised you refused payment, especially since you took on the job for coin, not vengeance."

_Oh, I can think of a way for you to pay me... Please, just shut the fuck __**up**__ about the Chant!_"Killing is killing. No two ways around it. You might say that it was just, but their perspective could be that they were doing it for the money. No different than us." Phobe instead replied, forcing herself to look straight ahead. "The Cleric was right you know, what I did was murder."

"No, you exacted justice."

"One person's justice is another person's murder. I can tell you right now that they haunt me as much as anyone else I've killed."

Sebastian was quiet for a few moments, removing his hand from Phobe's shoulder. Then, when he spoke up, his voice was soft. "There are confession times at the Chantry, every morning and every evening. If you wish to Confess, then you need only come in. It might make it easier if you speak to someone you know. But know this: when you kill with just cause, you are exacting the will of the Maker, and it is no crime."

"Well in that case, the Maker is a selective asshole who should re-evaluate how much he cares for the people he supposedly made. Otherwise, he's an abusive psychopath with a god complex. Oh,_ wait_." The girl finally snapped out angrily, shooting a glare at Sebastian. The prince blinked in surprise, and only after she took a breath, did she realize what she said. "Er..."

"I...take it that... you...are not an Andrastian, Phobe?"

"...Let's just say no and leave it at that." The realmwalker murmured, turning her eyes away, her cheeks flushed in shame. Not of what she said, but just how she snapped at a fucking _Prince_. _Even if he is a self-righteous holier-than-thou, blind, condescending .._She stayed quiet for a few moments, before sighing. "What I did was out of common fucking decency, because you lost your whole damn family and nothing would change that fact. I would be a complete asshole to demand payment for something you own especially in that situation."

Sebastian didn't reply. Thankfully, he didn't need to because Saemus and Izador came into view. The former was finally wearing some good armour; not as strong as his flashy one, but much more inconspicuous. Phobe kicked off the wall and sheathed her dagger, walking over to them and nodding.

"Lets get going. If we hurry, we can arrive at the woods before nightfall." The realmwalker stated. Saemus nodded, and looked back to Sebastian and Fenris, the latter having just stepped out of the tavern. As the group of five walked through the streets, Phobe noticed that Sebastian had taken a position in the back of the group, away from her. _Well, at least he's not endlessly thanking me now. Probably was a dick move to insult his religion though._

_Oh well._  
>88888888<p>

The poll is up now, vote for Hawke's LI; I'm pretty sure I can write any of them.


	8. Through the Forest

Disclaimer: Bioware owns Dragon Age 2 and all associated properties. I own nothing save for my own fanfiction and the original characters within.

_A/N Apologies for the lateness of this chapter. I originally planned to have it completed a week after the last one, but I had a death in the family, then by the time that I finished mourning, I had to move house, so I was without internet for a while. Add to that university, and you have a chapter that should've been done months ago. In addition, I decided to keep this chapter as one part rather than splitting it into two, cover the whole quest in one go._

_Anyways, I'm really starting to like the idea of a Phobe and Sebastian rivalry more than I should. I've a separate document that I keep to flesh out the relationships Phobe has with the rest of the group, and my attempts to make them amicable are weak at best._

_This chapter will mostly be a deviation from DA2. There is little to no information on the Planasene Forest, so I'm going to make it up as I go. I'm not too sure if I'll make more of these little scenes, but it is a way to fill in the time skips for as long as I need to. Chances are, I might end up doing a side story thing, where all the non-DA2 plot things go into._

_Also the poll is still up. I'm thinking of keeping it for at least a while, since I'm not too sure when I'll actually reach the whole Romance stages, if I end up reaching it. With that in mind, enjoy the chapter._

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The group of five had been travelling for three hours now. So far, the walk had been quiet; there were no bandit attacks despite how obvious of a target they were, nor were there any sort of conversations between them due to the fact that three members naturally quiet, and an uncomfortable silence that stretched between Phobe and Sebastian that Saemus didn't dare to break. The road between the forest and Kirkwall was not as bad as the road east to the coast, but the ground here was far more uneven. Trade between Cumberland and Kirkwall was easier by sea, with the Vimmark mountains separating the two cities, so the only people who had reason to head to the forest were loggers, gatherers and hunters. There were few roads, and the group simply travelled in a mostly straight path westward towards the forest, over large hills and around most obstacles.

After clearing a particularly large hill, the forest finally came into view, and it was here the girl paused, blinking in surprise. Even from this far of a distance, about a kilometer away on top of the hill, the girl had to tilt her head up to see the tops of the trees. It was an indistinct blur of greens impossible to discern individual trees, but even this far, she could see dark blots against the sky, thick flocks of had no doubts that hunters could find amazing bounties in such a lush environment, and an equal amount of dangers. "Damn, thats the forest?" She asked, finally breaking the silence.

"Aye." Izador replied as he stepped forward, looking at the forest critically. "The only forest in the Free Marches, and one of the liveliest in Thedas."

"I doubt that... The Planasene forest is one of the smallest, compared to the Dales or The Tirashan." Sebastian frowned, to which Izador laughed.

"And neither of those had to deal with the history that Kirkwall has. Legends say that all those Tevinter rituals way back when weakened the veil all around the city, as far as Sundermount to the Forest, and the supposedly ancient Dwarven Lyrium mines under it." The hunter stated as he lead the group down the hill. The realmwalker tore her eyes away to focus on the rocky path. "The lyrium apparently messed with the growth of the forest, and the trees grow so tall that you need a torch to navigate the forest any time but high noon. Then again, I've also heard that a rogue group of mages just decided to try and make the trees grow tall, so I've taken legends with a grain of salt. Regardless of the truth, all sorts of critters make the Planasene home, prey and predator alike, so most of the woodcutters stay on the very edges. Course...sometimes the forest comes to get them. Only hunters really traverse the forest, and even then, we never go far."

The group fell quiet, as they simply took in the sights of the forest ahead. Ahead, they could see a few cottages in the distance, set against the line of the forest. Most likely hunters or woodcutters. As they approached, the Kirkwall royal spoke up. "Do you think other hunters could've killed your friend?" Saemus asked, carefully sliding down a particularly slick patch of grass, before he slipped and landed on his rear. Sebastian helped pick him up.

"Doubt it. There's no point in taking out competition; plenty of forest to go all around. No, hunters here are more likely to band together against bears, wolves...or whatever else the forest wants to kill us with." Izador frowned, reaching into his bag to fish for something. "No, I'm guessing bandits, killing us for coins...Or maybe..." The hunter paused, taking out a torch, which he dipped into a container of pitch.

"Or maybe...?" The viscount's son looked up, dusting off his bum as the group paused to let Izador complete his task.

"Maybe some people who don't want to be found..." The hunter finished, closing the small jar as he crouched down, taking out a piece of flint which he struck against a rock, the practiced motion creating sparks that lit the torch. He stood up, putting flint and pitch away in his bag again, before leading the group to the forest's edge.

"Apostates?" Fenris frowned, his hand going to rest on the hilt of the broadsword on his back. Green eyes glanced darkly at the trees.

"Mages wouldn't use archery; fireballs would work just as well." Phobe pointed out quietly, walking behind Izador. "Maybe brigands, or even refugees who made the forest home..." she trailed off, frowning.

"Whatever the cause, it is our duty to stop these deaths." Sebastian stated, as he pulled his bow off his back, ready in case anything came across them.

Silence fell on them once more, as the group simply traversed the forest. They let Izador lead, as he actually knew the forest for its trees. All of them kept their eyes open, and their hands on their weapons, save for the hunter. Izador's crossbow remained on his back, as his hand held the torch. Phobe's short blade and dagger were nestled in her hands, and the realmwalker kept behind the hunter, all too aware of the viscount's son behind her, his longsword in his hand. Fenris followed behind him, broadsword remaining at rest, but gauntleted fingers curled around the hilt. All they could see was what was illuminated by Izador's torch, a tiny corona of light that fought off the almost suffocating darkness. While the group was quiet, the forest around them was not. Leaves crumpled under their feet, and the bushes rustled around them. The sounds of the forest, chirps of the birds above and the noises of insects around could be heard, cutting through the silence. The girl was glad her armour covered all but her face, especially once she saw the size of one of the bugs that flew above them.

After several minutes of walking, Fenris let out a low snarl. "How much further?" He asked, glancing up as if hoping to see the sky through the thick canopy.

"Not much. We'll be at the glade soon an' I-" Izador was interrupted by an arrow whizzing by, pinning itself into a tree. Instantly, the party reacted. Sebastian's bow was notched and pointed in the direction of the arrow's origin. Fenris' markings glowed, his sword in his hands and a snarl on his face, ready for action. Seamus stayed back, the realmwalker moving to protect him with her daggers raised, but even he had his sword and shield out. And though the hunter's crossbow was still on his back, Izador's free hand held a sharp axe that gleamed in the torchlight.

"Halt." A stern voice called out through the trees. "We have your party surrounded. Surrender, apostates, and we will spare your lives."

"Apo- What?" Phobe called out, frowning as she scanned the trees for the source of the noise. "We are not apostates!"

"By the Order of The Templars, lay down your weapons now, apostates." The voice continued, as if the girl didn't talk.

"Hey! I said-"

"Lay down your weapons!" The voice sounded cross now. "Now, or we will show no mercy!"

Sebastian lowered his bow, and shortly after, Seamus sheathed his blade. Fenris took a glance at Phobe, who simply kept frowning.

"Show yourselves first, you pairless little bitch!" She shouted back, causing the group to stare at her. "Or is it standard procedure for Templars to hide themselves like common bandits?!"

"That mouth of yours will get you killed one day." Fenris muttered, though moments later, no less than seven Templars, in full body armour, stepped out from behind the trees. Only one of them went without a helmet, a human man who looked no older than Phobe, and the second his eyes fell upon the group, confusion appeared in them.

"You're not the group we seek." He commented with surprise.

"What gave it away? No one here wearing a dress and a baton on their back?" The irate girl frowned as she straightened, her weapons lowering but not away. The templar merely glared at her.

"Watch your mouth. Even if you are not apostates, you speak to representatives of the Templar Order." He scowled. Seamus spoke up before she could continue arguing.

"What made you think that we were apostates?" He asked curiously. For a moment, the girl worried that the Templars would recognize the Viscount's son and complicate the situation further. They didn't seem to.

"We saw your torch light." Another templar spoke up, the one closest to the unhelmeted one's right. This voice sounded older than his comrade. "Connor here assumed that it was a mage's light, and signaled the alarm. The trees blocked you from view, so we did not know until you called us out."

"Wait, so you didn't have line of sight enough to confirm we aren't apostates...but you had enough to shoot a fucking arrow at us. An activity that actually requires a line of sight." The girl asked, looking both confused and irritated.

"Please, Ser Templar." Sebastian spoke up now, shooting a quick 'shut-up' glare at Phobe as the templar identified as Connor scowled furiously. "We are here on behalf of the Viscount of Kirkwall, investigating some mysterious deaths of hunters. Do you know anything about it?"

The elder templar's helmet clattered a little, a sign that he nodded. "A little. Enough to think that what we seek and what you seek are not related. The hunters are usually killed deep in the forest, filled with arrows or killed with blades." He paused, thinking. "There is the faint possibility that bandits set up camp deep in the Forest, of course, and they might be sheltering the apostate we seek, but that seems unlikely. Bandits are unlikely to come this far; not enough pickings in the forest."

"It is possible; a mage sways a bandit group to his or her side with a show of power, they become the mage's personal army." Fenris frowned as he rubbed his chin.

"If such is the case, please inform us before you engage the bandits. We have our orders to detain the apostate."

"Or kill it if it proves dangerous." Connor quipped up, eyes settling on the realmwalker dangerously. "Or gets in our way." The elder templar shot a look at the unhelmeted one.

"Please forgive him. He is young, having just taken the vows...Though you did a good job provoking him." Now the elder had a practiced disapproving look on his face, directed to the realmwalker, who merely shrugged her shoulders.

"For all I knew, you shot at us and claimed to be Templars. Since we expect bandits, I thought bandits pretending to be Templars." She replied flatly. The young templar audibly growled, so the girl let out a sigh. "And though I was a little miffed at the whole 'shoot first, ask questions later' thing, I shouldn't have reacted like that. For that, I apologize." She made a point to direct it at, what seemed to be at least, the superior officer.

"Apology accepted." The elder Templar stated before Connor could interject.

"...One question though...you mentioned that there were more hunters killed, as did our companion...But if not bandits, what do you think would kill them?"

"I'm not sure." The Templar replied, rubbing his chin. "Refugees, perhaps. If they could not stay in Kirkwall, perhaps they moved out here to elk out a living. But since most of the deaths occurred in the deep forest, we can't be sure of that."

"Why do you know of the deaths, Serah?" Seamus asked curiously.

"We've been keeping an eye on all sorts of suspicious activity in the forest." Connor explained, pausing as he looked at Seamus with an odd expression on his face, as though it were faint recognition. Izador seemed to notice it and casually shifted so that the Kirkwall heir was slightly obscured. "Mostly looking for the apostates, but the deaths pop up occasionally, and the hunters ask us to investigate. Once we determine that the apostates were not the cause, we tended to leave it to them."

"I suppose that's why they asked the Viscount to look into it. But the deaths have been going on for a while now. I would guess that a hunter or two die every month or so." the elder continued. The displaced teen frowned quietly as she pondered this, but before she could inquire or process the words properly, the armoured templar spoke again. "Now, if there is nothing else, I suppose we'd both be on our separate ways...Be on the lookout for our apostates. There are two, both elven, one male and one female. As far as I can see, the male one is the older of them. If you see them, please search for our camp east of here. Ask for Ser Erik and I will come."

"Very well, Ser Templar." Sebastian bowed a little, and thankfully, the Templars left. Once they left, the Starkhaven noble shot a glare at Phobe. "Why did you provoke them?" He asked angrily, once they were certain that the mage-hunters were out of earshot.

"Why did you immediately trust them the second they said Templar? They could've been bandits pretending, and you would've happily put your weapons down like a gullible brat." Phobe shot back, before frowning deeply. "And really, anyone who waves around a badge of authority like it's a tool to make other submit to them usually do not deserve it."

Sebastian frowned, but Izador spoke up irritably before the Starkhaven heir could say anything. "If we're done bickering like children, let's move along."

88888888

"This is the place." Izador stated as they approached a grove, about twenty feet in diameter. There were the remains of a fire, and a mostly decomposed corpse by now, but asides from that, there was little difference here than any other part of the forest. Fenris crouched down by the corpse, examining what little there was left, while Sebastian and Seamus moved to search their surroundings. Phobe glanced around, frowning a little. Her eyes settled on Izador, watching him carefully for a few moments. The man's posture had changed now, from the relaxed walk to being tense and alert, his eyes watching one particular direction, further into the forest.

The realmwalker spoke up softly, causing the man to jump in surprise and look at her with alertness. Strange, considering that the situation seemed normal. "What do you expect us to find here?" She asked as the Rivani looked over.

"Anything that might explain what happened." He replied, dark eyes looking over to her for a few moments, before he continued to look in that direction, though more discreetly now.

She said nothing to the hunter now, merely nodding as she moved over to the corpse where Fenris was, crouching down beside him as the elf took out one rotting arrow. "I don't like this, Fenris." She muttered quietly, glancing behind her for a moment to make sure no one was within earshot. "Something's not right."

"What are you talking about?" He inquired, green eyes flicking to her for a moment before he tried to inspect the arrow.

"Well...why now?" The realmwalker continued, as she glanced at the rotting corpse for a moment. What skin remained on the skull was leathery, and there were sections of bone could be seen under death darkened flesh. The flesh around the mouth, nose and eyes was gone now, eaten away by insects or perhaps the odd animal, revealing a mouth full of yellowed teeth, sunken holes where there should be features. Phobe looked away before she could examine or even think of it further, her stomach churning. "I-I mean, well, why did Izador bring it up now, if the deaths have been happening for a few years? Why didn't anyone come earlier?" She asked, trying to keep her stomach under control by swallowing dryly a few times.

"Perhaps they did, and the Viscount turned them away." He replied just as quietly, though his voice seemed to have an edge of suspicion. "...I'm more curious as to why they would think it would be refugees or bandits."

"Yeah...I don't see why a bunch of refugees would head deep into the forest to make a living. They could try for other settlements, places where they might have an easier life." The girl muttered quietly, glancing back for a moment. Izador and Seamus were talking quietly, and Sebastian was leaning against a tree nearby, eyes on their surroundings. She didn't think he was listening in, so the realmwalker continued. "And like the Templar said, there's no good reason for bandits to be here. Even if they followed an apostate, they'd stay near roads, settlements; wherever they can get an easy target."

"...Look at this arrow." The escaped slave murmured, and the girl turned brown eyes back to what was in Fenris' hand. She adjusted the glasses on her nose as she took the stick, examining it carefully. "Do you notice those carvings in the shaft?"

Sure enough, there were faint etches in the wood. They had faded quite a bit, perhaps from the passage of time, but they were still deep enough to be seen. As she ran a thumb over the flowing markings, she frowned. "...I don't think bandits or refugees would make their arrows art." She muttered quietly, thinking carefully. "...Do you think that maybe...there are-"

"Something approaches." Sebastian spoke up, stopping Phobe in her line of thought. The fugitive and the realmwalker both stood quickly, the former turning to the archer with his hand on the blade on his back, while the latter's hands went to the blades at her sides. Now that she wasn't focussed on her thoughts, she recognized the sound of movement around them. One source sounded particularly close and without thinking, the girl reached out and shoved Fenris' back.

Two forms came from the bushes just near the corpse, both with intricately detailed bows raised and arrows notched. They both stood taller than she did by at least a few hands. One had long dark hair and his narrowed eyes were light, while the other had a much shorter sandy blond, darker eyes more open. One thing the realmwalker instantly noticed, aside from the twin arrows pointed at her throat, were the points to their ears and the unique leather armour that they wore.

"Shemlen," One commented with a voice laced with hate, "in our forest."

"It is not your forest, elf." A deep voice snarled from behind, and she could hear the sounds of a crossbow being readied.

"...So you knew about the Dalish being here." The girl commented, sparing a glance back at Izador, the pieces clicking together in her mind now. "And am I to guess that you want our help driving them out?"

"We will not be forced off our land, human." The other, the light haired hunter, spat out, his notched arrow turning to point at Phobe.

"That is what you think, knife-ear." Izador continued, stepping forward. The displaced teenager could see him now out of the corner of her eye. "The Viscount of Kirkwall knows your kind are here, and he will not tolerate your filth in his forest."

"His forest?"

"Hey, what makes you think that, Izador?" She asked, anger rising in her throat. There was a faint growl that didn't seem to worry the hunter but he looked at her nonetheless. "You knew what we were up against, and don't you fucking deny it. You knew and you didn't think to inform the rest of us."

"I thought you'd object." He retorted angrily. "Since you travel with a knife-ear yourself, I thou-"

"And what makes you think," she snapped back, anger in her voice, "that we won't object now, you damn cunt!? I have half a fucking mind to turn around and leave, not only because you kept us in the dark of one key detail, but because I sure as hell won't be one to force people from their homes just because some racist asshole can't stand sharing a few hundred kilometers with some elves!"

"Enough!" One of the Dalish hunters snapped; the light haired one was glaring at Izador now, his bow following his eyes. "You trespass on Dalish territory, and you would dare threaten our home? For that, I will-"

"Ma lethal'in." The other spoke up, sparing a moment to glance at his friend. "Wait." He started to speak lowly, in a tongue that Phobe could hardly recognize. His friend did not seem pleased with the words the other spoke, for he quickly retorted angrily in the same tongue. The dark haired elf continued for a few more, long moments, before the other snarled and nodded.

"Is what he says true?" The dark haired elf continued, shifting his glare from his friend to Izador, gesturing to the Rivani, before his eyes landed on Phobe again as the girl worked to calm herself down, mentally swearing that if she didn't kill Izador for this, she'd at the very least kick him hard enough for his grandchildren to be brain damaged. "Does this Viscount know we are here?"

"Not as far as I can tell." She replied, figuring that honesty was the only thing she could give right now. "The Viscount hired us to investigate the deaths of the hunters. I don't think he knew what Izador was hiding."

The mentioned hunter let out a low snarl. "I've had enough of this." He snapped furiously, as he raised his crossbow. "You'll pay for this, elf!"

What happened next was a blur of activity. Phobe acted before her mind could process her action, for she ran at Izador, tackling him to the ground just as he pressed his finger against the trigger of his crossbow. The trajectory was affected, but judging by the scream coming from the bushes, it did hit its' target. There was a roar of anger, perhaps from Izador, and there were sounds coming from all around her, movement from the bushes, even a few shouts from above. But before she could really process what was going on, something crashed into the back of the realmwalker's head, and everything went dark.

88888888

_The Girl was sitting in her room again, but for once, she wasn't working on her homework. It was there, of course, set down against the covers of her bed, but her eyes were too focused on the window to the world outside. Usually, the wooden blinds would be closed, both inside the dream and in the real world, but now they had been pulled up to reveal the backyard of her home. Most of what she could see was simple; a picket fence painted brown that blocked their yard from the neighbor's, grass growing out of control because they were too lazy to mow it, and mostly barren planters, with only a few natural bushes in them._

_She moved off the bed, the dream taking a different route than usual...perhaps because it was caused by blunt force trauma instead of the usual drifting off. She could hear the sounds of conversation from beyond her door. Recognizable voices. Familiar voices. Even in the haze of the dream, her heart twisted and her ears strained to hear them._

_"...almost time to eat. Call ****** to the table."_

_"Mui!" Someone knocked on the door, and the girl found herself running towards the door. She opened it quickly, eyes wide and hopeful. She should've seen her grandmother standing there, the door to her parents' room behind her. But instead of her home, it was the empty darkness of the Fade. The sky was an odd swirl of greens and yellows, and she could see distant floating islands. But still, the voices of her family called out to her as though she had opened the right door, as if all she had to do to see them was turn to the side. But the voices became jumbled, as dream and memory laced together._

_"-should stop playing, it's already midnigh-" "******, what time do you need to go-" "Are you going to see your-" "Hey! Go to sleep already!" "-sure you want to be a psychologist? Why not a lawyer or an account-" "-spending too much money on games. You're-" "Mui-" "******!" "******!" "Caaar-"_

_"SHUT UP!" She roared, trying to cover her ears. Her dream was lucid now, and she refused to hear those voices, shutting them out despite the pain in her chest. "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Her voice called out, but there was no one to listen._

_Mercifully, they stopped, and The Girl fell to her knees. The pain in her chest only grew with the emptiness, and she couldn't stop the cries that came to her. "You shut out the voices of your loved ones." Came a soft whisper, and she quickly looked up. Even through her tears, she could see a large, shadowy blob in front of her. Its' form seemed to swirl, with wisps fading off of it, and she couldn't see a mouth from which it spoke. The deep, dark and chilling voice coming from nowhere. "I wished only to give you a respite from your demons. A memory to cool those pains. But if you wish for the nightmares back, who am I to judge?"_

_"Fuck you." The Girl snarled, as she stood up and charged at the form, something heavy in her hands, who merely slid away like a shadow. The ground fell away, and she could only scream as the void opened up to greet her, a rotting, skeletal form with its arms wide open and maggots crawling out of its empty eye sockets ready to catch her._

"Phobe, wake up!" Something collided with her side, and the world tilted. Her eyes opened sharply, and she looked around quickly, taking deep breaths for air she didn't think she needed so badly. The first thing that she saw was Izador with his foot raised; clearly he kicked her awake. She sat up with difficulty, a tightness around her abdomen. It was only when she looked down did she realize that her arms were bound behind her back and to her torso. The girl let out a small groan of pain, from both her shoulder aching from where she hit the hard ground and a dull ache that came from the back of her neck. Nevertheless, she righted herself pausing to take a good look at her surroundings. She couldn't see the forest anymore, in fact, she couldn't see much of anything. The world around her was a blur, and it was then she realized her glasses were missing.

With a frown, she squinted as she looked around, and she could vaguely see that tarp surrounded them and they were isolated from the outside, with a lit lantern hanging from a hook near the doorway. From the outside, the sounds of chatter and even a fire could be heard over the ambient noise of the forest. She did a quick head count and saw that all her companions were there, though some seemed more worse-for-wear than others. Where Seamus looked perfectly fine from where she sat, Sebastian had a discoloured spot on his jaw and Fenris a black eye. Izador was the worst, however. From what she could see with him sitting close by, his cheek had been cut, three dark spots on his face; at his jaw, cheekbone and forehead. There was dried blood stuck to his ear and jawline, and his armour had been cracked or even torn in places to reveal cuts, bruises, and one crudely bandaged wound. And that was just what she could see half-blind; she had no doubts the man was even more injured.

"Are you alright Phobe? You looked like you were...crying in your sleep." Seamus asked.

"I'm fine. Just a bad dream... What happened?"

"An ambush." Fenris replied thickly, sounding as though his tongue was heavy in his mouth. "When Izador fired, the Dalish took it as a sign of attack. We were taken down by no less than eight hunters, apparently. Rather than kill us, they brought us here, and we've been waiting ever since."

"Right...Izador, what the he-void were you thinking?" She growled angrily as she looked over to the severely injured hunter, who simply glared at her. "I want an explanation, the whole fucking story if you don't mind."

"And what do you-"

"Don't even pretend to play dumb, Izador. I'm not falling for that. You knew that it was the Dalish, you didn't deny it earlier, and yet you wanted us to think it was bandits." The realmwalker frowned as she thought carefully. "...It can't simply just be for the game. You could hunt in places where you don't think the Dalish would catch you; would be a lot easier...No, you went to the Viscount because you want them gone."

"You're talking nonsense, girl." Izador growled, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. Even if he denied it, his posture changed. Even in his pain, he seemed defensive. "There ain't nothing in these woods that the Dalish are guarding that we can't get at ourselves, so you just shut it."

"...I never said that the Dalish were guarding something." Phobe frowned as she looked at the hunter. By now, the others were looking at him as well, and he seemed to be mentally cursing himself for his trip-up.

"You need to stop picking apart my words. Now."

"Oh no. See, I just thought that you were a useless, racist, son of a sodomizing chickenshit, but now I can see that you're a useless, racist, son of a sodomizing chickenshit with a plan. You got us into this because...what, you wanted the Dalish gone? To get at what they were hiding away, whatever it is. But why bring us into this? Why didn't you gather a bunch of hunters to do that work?" The realmwalker studied the hunter carefully, "Maybe you don't want to share the discovery...But then why bring it up to the Viscount? If the guards claimed it-" She paused then, and looked over to Seamus. "Hm...See, now my train of thought is going elsewhere. If your plan failed, you'd still have a bargaining chip. You could try and ransom the Viscount's son. Claim that bandits took him and they want a reward... Or perhaps do something worse... Maybe even sell him off as a slav-"

"What? I'd never- I didn't even think of that!" Izador shouted back, as the mentioned royal looked over to him. "No, that's not it! Argh, you stupid...Fine." He sighed as his head fell back against the post closest to him. "Fine, you know what? You're right. I was looking for something here. Those knife ears probably don't know it, but they're sitting on a gold mine. Figuratively and literally... A while ago, my friend Lyssa, the one that was killed, she found out the location of it. An ancient dwarven map which she cross-referenced to the forest here. She let me in on the secret."

"...Those Lyrium mines you mentioned before?" Fenris frowned as he looked at the hunter. "You said they were a myth."

"He also said he thought bandits killed his friend." Seamus replied, glancing over to the lyrium-etched elf. "We should take that with a grain of salt."

"These mines are real though, and the Coterie wants a slice of it. Lyrium trade is heavily regulated by the Chantry, and if they can get their hands on a mine like that, they wouldn't have to rely on stolen shipments or smuggling from Orzammar. They'd rival the dwarven Carta." Izador continued, sighing deeply as he lowered his head. "I-I made some bad choices when I was younger. I owe the Coterie too much to pay back, but if I can get them the mine, my debt is gone and I'll be swimming in riches."

"Of course, that also means that you fuck the elves up here. For you, two birds with one stone." Phobe spat out angrily.

"I didn't have any problems with these knife-ears until they murdered Lyssa." The hunter growled as he looked up at the realmwalker. "She was just trying to find a way to make them move. A few hundred meters and we could've had our mine. They would be fine."

"And you seriously believe that?" Fenris snarled as he looked at Izador. "Elves have long been subjected to abuses by humans, they wouldn't believe that you'd want them to just move a little."

"Surely not these elves though," Sebastian commented for the first time since Phobe woke up. "As far as I can tell, no one knew that they existed. I'm sure they'd be willing to negociate; they seem reasonable enough. Perhaps if they hear Izador's situation, they'd be willing to relocate to another part of the forest and let us go."

"...That is the stupidest thing I've heard anyone say this month." The girl flatly replied. "I can imagine it now. 'Sure! Lets take this human's words at face value and completely move our entire camp, which we have worked to keep completely quiet and hidden, just so that a criminal organization can come in and exploit this land for their own gain. While we're at it, let's go hug a few templars while singing hymns to the Old Gods! Herp derp deeeeerrrrrrp.'" She mocked, before rolling her shoulders a little, trying to get the pain out of them and completely ignoring the angry frown on the Andrastian's. "No, they're more likely to kill us just to keep this quiet and go on with their daily lives."

"Not quite, shemlen." All of them fell quiet, turning to look up. There were four people standing in the doorway. Two, the realmwalker could vaguely recognize from the grove. The third, however, was a taller, older elf, who wore mages robes and an odd amused smile on his face. Behind the two hunters and the mage, she could see another elf, perhaps the youngest of the group that she could see, with a staff on her back.

"You're the Keeper of this clan." More puzzle pieces fell into place as Fenris identified, and Phobe remembered the Templars' words. Before she could say anything, however, the Keeper stood in front of her, studying her carefully.

"Your energies are different." He commented quietly, studying Phobe carefully, before looking between the gathered in the group. "Nothing like anything I have seen...Who are you?"

The girl thought carefully of her answer for as long as she could without looking suspicious. She decided to act ignorant. Evade. "My name is Phobe. I came to this forest on a job, looking for answers on the dead hunters here..."

"And you found your answer: our clan. But you did not answer my question." He crouched down, and energies gathered in his hand. Blue light shined, and Phobe edged away as he brought his hand up, carefully inspecting the girl through the light. "All means of life, save for the Durgen'len, have connections to the Beyond, some stronger than others. ...The energies of the beyond clings onto you, but it does not flow through you. Not exactly. It...gathers in you." The Keeper watched her carefully, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. There must have been horror or fear on her face, for he spoke up again. "You pretend, but I can see that you know what I speak of."

The realmwalker swallowed dryly, and sighed. "Yes. I do. I...will answer, but I have a request: I speak to you without my companions." At this, Izador, Sebastian, and Seamus looked at her, frowning. Fenris was obscured from her sight, but she hoped that he understood what was going on. "I have more than that to speak to you about anyways."

The keeper frowned for a moment, thinking carefully. But then, he sighed and nodded. "Very well. But only because my curiosity is strong. Do not think you will get away, though." He stated, before looking over to the two hunters. They moved to lift Phobe up, and she raised an eyebrow.

"Er...I'm asking you to lead me away from the people who could help me escape...And I'm still bound so...How can I escape?" She asked. The keeper merely shrugged and the hunters lead her out. As she left, she spared a glance back. Fenris was looking at her curiously, as if wondering what she was doing while the other three just looked confused. The door closed, though, and she turned to focus on what was ahead. They led her down steps, and Phobe couldn't help but look around the camp.

It was like nothing she had seen before; Where they were kept was in the center of the camp, and nearby, she could see a roaring, merry fire, surrounded by young elven children who were chattering to each other while an old elf tried to get their attention. More hunters were by them, though they were watching her cautiously, one even pausing as he fletched more arrows to glare suspiciously at her. She didn't really pay them any heed, squinting to look around, trying to take in other sights. In the distance, she could see many white blurs gathered together and-

"Why are you glaring like that?" The hunter to her right asked suspiciously. She looked up and saw the dark-haired one from before was watching her carefully.

"I uh...can't really see anything." she explained a little lamely. "...This might be a pretty stupid question but...did you guys leave my glasses back in that grove? You know, the thing that was on my nose and hooked around my ears?"

"We know what seeing lenses are!" The blond haired elf snapped, to which his friend shushed softly. He let out a low growl, before continuing. "Yes. The Keeper has them in his aravel, along with most of your other possessions."

"Oh...okay." And she fell quiet again, just looking around as best as she could. Those they passed by stayed away, looking at Phobe cautiously or even hatefully. Children whimpered when she glanced in her direction, so eventually she just sighed and stared at the small patch of orange sky that could be seen above, letting her guards lead her elsewhere as she thought carefully. Thankfully, by that point, they were near their destination, and the girl was soon pushed up another few steps into another landship.

This landship was far more decorated than the one that they had been occupying before. There was cloth and wooden ornaments hanging on the walls, even a white, ivory-looking pair of horns just above a desk. Two beds were pushed against another wall, and there were a large clutter of scrolls and books that she could see. Propped up against the desk were their bags and weapons, several sacks opened to examine the contents within. Phobe's little leather bag, taken in lieu of her backpack, was set on the desk, with almost all contents laid out carefully. For a moment, she was glad that she had kept her other-worldly possessions on her person, but she didn't get a chance to relish in it as she felt one of the guards let go, to walk towards the Keeper who had settled in his desk. The other, however, started to squeeze the pouches on her belt for their contents.

"Hey, watch it." Phobe stated crossly as she glanced at the hunter; the dark haired one who merely frowned at her and continued. Angrily, she shoved at him with her shoulder. "Knock it off!"

"Why? Do you have something to hide?" The other hunter spat out. Phobe just shot a glare at him.

"Well, in most societies, women usually have to consent when men try to grab at their bags. Pretty rude otherwise." The blond's cheeks darkened for a moment, though whether out of fury or embarrassment was unknown. For a moment, she thought she could hear the one searching her laughing silently, but it was most likely her imagination. Nevertheless, he continued his search, so Phobe looked at the elder mage. "Look, you want an explanation? I'll give it, just get your thug off me."

The Keeper studied her for a moment, before shaking his head. "How am I sure you won't lie?"

"What, you really expect me to lie about being the victim of a psychotic blood mage?" She frowned as she tried to elbow the hunter who was gripping another pouch. She dared to glance at him, but thankfully, he was busy groping her herb pouch. He pulled out a small sprig of elfroot, examining it carefully, before stuffing it back in. "Well, a little while ago, I was the test subject of some crazy blood mage. He did things to me at the behest of a demon, but I escaped and eventually killed him."

"What sort of tests did he do?" The mage asked curiously, bringing his hand up. The hunter stopped his search and Phobe suppressed a sigh of relief as he moved to stand with his friend.

"Damned if I know. They hurt, that's all I remember. I'm not a mage, so I can't tell you the specifics." The realmwalker sighed as she shook her head. "But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. Your clan is in danger, and it's not from the Viscount."

"Let me hazard a guess...The Templars?"

"Yeah. They're scouring the Planasene for you and your First. Sooner or later, they'll run into your hunters, and judging by how arrow-happy they are." The girl glanced at the lighter haired hunter, who glared right back at her. "You're going to end up in a conflict."

"We could easily tear apart anyone who threatens our clan, including your Templars, shemlen." He replied bitterly.

The girl scowled as she looked at the hunter, then she turned her eyes to the eldest elf in the room. "Look, suppose that your patrols do end up killing this Templar camp, what happens? A squad of Templars vanish, the Chantry sends more to investigate. They find your camp and either you defeat them and they keep sending reinforcements, or you don't and you lose your Keeper." She pauses and frowns for a moment. "Actually, chances are that's what's going to happen either way. The Chantry just has the numbers for it. So unless you move your camp away, conflict is unavoidable."

"Can we not speak to the Templars? Get them to leave us alone?" Another voice spoke up, and Phobe glanced over to the Dalish first. She blushed a little as eyes fell on her, her eyes lowering as she brought her much too large staff in front of her.

"That won't work, trust me." The realmwalker replied, "I talked to a few of them, and they're pretty stubborn about this."

The keeper spoke up now, softly. "I do have a plan, but it will require your cooperation, human, if you are willing to assist."

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Time had passed slowly in their makeshift prison since The Keeper took Phobe away. No one had come by to check up on them, and the four had been left in the dark, with only a tiny sliver of light from a candle held by the guard outside. Saemus dozed off after Fenris stopped relaying things about the camp outside since things quieted down for the night, while Izador and Sebastian simply stayed quiet for a while.

Sebastian was the one to break the silence. "Where do you think Phobe is?" He asked softly.

"Who knows." Izador gruffly muttered, head turning in the dark. "Maybe the Keeper is trying to get information out of her. Or maybe they just killed her."

"If they did, they would do the same to us or will very soon." Fenris mumbled softly, as he glanced outside one more time.

The guard had shifted, turning to face forward. He was saying something to someone else, probably another hunter. It couldn't be his relief; there had already been a shift change recently. There was no response and the dalish spoke louder, only to meet a weapon to the face. He fell off to the ground, and the 'relief' promptly smashed him on the head one more time.

Phobe pushed the door flap open and quickly lit the lantern inside the tent with the candle she took from the guard. She dropped the bags that she carried with her, their belongings, near the door and quickly walked over to Fenris. Before he could say anything, either where she was or why there was an angry red gash on her cheek, she cut his bonds with a knife, before heading over to Sebastian. "Come on." She stated as she cut the rope around his wrists. "We need to get going."

"What's that on your back?" The lay brother asked, gesturing to the cloth-wrapped bundle tied to Phobe's torso. She ignored him as she roughly shook Seamus awake with one hand, cutting the ropes with another.

"We have no time, Sebastian. We need to go before they realize what I did." Phobe snapped back, going now to Izador.

"Ack! Watch it with the knife, girl!" The hunter stated, grabbing his wrist the first chance he could to stop the bleeding. Phobe simply sheathed it and looked to Fenris, who was already tossing Seamus his bag, the fugitive's sword already snugly on his back.

Phobe went over to the door, checking the outside for a moment before looking back. "We have to run as fast as we can." She stated as Sebastian strapped his bow on and Izador barely managed to catch his bag. "If it looks like someone's chasing us, we keep running."

"What in Andraste's name is going on?" The archer asked as he approached the door, looking towards the Dalish camp as a sleepy Seamus and a grumbling hunter following behind him.

"No time!" Phobe hissed. There was a faint groan from the doorway and the realmwalker looked over. "Guys, now." She reached over, grabbing Sebastian's wrist, and started to make her way out. The other three quickly followed, and Phobe started to lead them out of the camp just as the guard slowly got up.

"Wha... Wait!" The guard seemed to regain himself, but the realmwalker already prompted her group to start running. Taking a bow off his back, the Dalish hunter, who Fenris recognized as the blond hunter from before, started to fire at them. "Get back here!" He shouted furiously.

An arrow landed near Izador's feet, and he paused for a moment. Then Saemus shoved him in the back. "Come on!" He shouted a little too loudly. The Rivani followed the heir and soon, they made it past the trees. Fenris continued to sprint ahead leading the group through the dark trees. More than once, Phobe stumbled on a stray root, though Sebastian helped stabilize her, keeping her going. Seamus and Izador brought up the rear, the two occasionally glancing back to try and see if anyone was following them. The group slowed after minutes of running through the trees, stopping only when they were certain that they had left the Dalish camp behind.

They took a break near a stream. Phobe finally let go of the archer's wrist, practically flopping down on the ground near the water and taking a few deep breaths.

"So, girl, you mind telling us what all that was about?" Izador asked, trying to look at her. Their surroundings were too dark, so the hunter begrudgingly took a torch out from his pack and made to light it.

"...Sorta kinda fucked up." Was her mumbled reply. She gestured to the parcel on her back, and Seamus gently took it off to open it.

Inside were a square of folded parchment and two long staves. The wood was dark, but clearly charged with lyrium and magical power. While one was simple in appearance, the other had intricate lyrium carvings that ran along the length. Adorned at the top of the staff was a crimson crystal of sort, with wood wrapping around it in a spiral to fix it in place. Both staffs had been stained though, in odd places with what looked to be blood.

"You..." Seamus started, "Phobe, did you kill the Keeper?!"

"It was an accident, alright?!" The realmwalker sat up quickly, only to pause and lie back down, groaning a little. "They were pushing me, trying to get me to talk about the Templars and what the blood mages did to me and there was a knife nearby and I just..." She trailed off.

"You got rid of them?" He gleefully grinned. "The elves'll have to leave now. That means that the way is clear! Good job, Phobe!"

"Yeah...about that..." The girl mumbled as she carefully rolled over, placing a hand on her forehead. She weakly held up a hand, gesturing to the parchment. "It's a map of their camp and the surrounding area..."

Sebastian was the one to unfold it, though he glared at Phobe as he did so. Izador stepped over and looked it over, holding the torch near the paper to examine it carefully. "...There's nothing here." He whispered softly, looking over the map. Every bit of the Dalish camp, from the halla pens to the aravels and even the trees that surrounded it, had been detailed. "No entrance at all? I-Is this accurate?!" He asked as he looked to the girl on the ground.

"I looked around the best I could" She groaned softly. "Nothing to indicate any sort of ruins. There isn't a mine here, Izador."

"You...You're lying." Before Sebastian could stop him, the hunter went over to Phobe, lifting her with one fist in her collar, yanking her up. "There has to be! There just has to be!"

The girl was pale in the light, and she shot him a weak glare. " Izador, did you even see the map your friend had?"

"I...She showed it to me! I know that the camp has to be on the entrance." He dropped her to the ground and she fell, Seamus catching her before she hit the ground with her back.

"Is the map accurate though?" The Viscount's son asked, looking up at the hunter. Izador hesitated.

"Look, for all you know she could've given you a fake location so she could find the real entrance herself...Or she showed you something fake in the first place just to mess with you." Phobe added as she straightened.

"Shut up! Lyssa wouldn't do that!"

"And why wouldn't she? If she really did have a map that the entrance to a rich lyrium mine, why share it?" Fenris quipped up from where he was sitting near the stream. For a moment, it looked as though his eyes landed on Phobe. "If there was fortune, what makes you think she would share it with someone who would sell to the Coterie?"

"Let's not think on that right now." Seamus spoke up, looking warily at his group. "We need to get away from the Dalish as soon as possible."

"Agreed." Sebastian replied, inspecting their surroundings with what little light they had. "Perhaps the templars will grant us a place to stay for the night." Izador was silent, simply holding the parchment in his hands quietly.

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Finding the Templar camp was difficult in this darkness, since they only had a vague direction to head to. The five had to stay quiet in case of predators and Dalish, never knowing what the trees hid. But sooner or later, they located the grove that Lyssa's corpse was in, and from there, they backtracked to where the group of templars had ambushed them. After that, it was rather easy to find the camp, and now Phobe found herself sitting at a campfire across from the brash Connor, who was watching her cautiously as Erik examined the staves that were in the cloth bundle. Her companions were sitting nearby, staying quiet while the templars verified their story. Izador had the map, which was tucked safely in his armour.

These are indeed the weapons of a mage..." The elder templar replied, before examining the tired looking Phobe. "And you say you killed them both?"

"Yeah. You won't have any problems with them now." Phobe stared at the ground, trying to stop from nodding off.

The captain nodded once and rolled up the weapons once more. "I can't say that I wished for their deaths but...they cannot harm anyone now." He tied the bundle off and handed it to Connor. "Take these to the storage." He requested, pulling the younger templar out of his glare. He turned to his superior, taking the staves in hand as he stood. He took another look at the group at large before he headed off to do as his superior told him to. Erik took out a small pouch of coin and tossed it to Fenris, who was the most alert. "For your work. Now if you'll excuse me, I must write my report. Get some rest tonight, and you may follow us back to Kirkwall." He placed his arms over his chest, palms on opposite shoulders and bowed to them before departing as well.

It wasn't until he was gone that the group relaxed. Seamus started to speak quietly to Sebastian, while Izador took out the map to stare at. Fenris started to count out the contents of the pouch as he slid to speak to Phobe. "Impressive. There's over ten gold in here. The Templars must have been after them for a while." The fugitive commented quietly.

"So that will be broken up between the two of us and Sebastian then?" Phobe grumbled as she rubbed at her face with a hand.

"I suppose." Fenris mumbled as he closed the bag quickly. "So what did those mages do to you? What took you so long to escape?"

Phobe stayed quiet for a little while, before shaking her head. "Later. I'm too tired to talk right now. I'll talk to you all tomorrow." She stood up and headed over to where the templars left a few sleeping bags for them. Fenris and Seamus bid her goodnight, while Izador just continued to stare at the map quietly.

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**An awkward place to cut this off, but this chapter's really gotten too long on me. The aftermath'll happen in the next chapter. Thank you all for reading through it, and I apologize for taking so long.**


End file.
